Scanned from the collections of
The Library of Congress
AUDIO-VISUAL CONSERVATION
at Thr LIBRARY of CONGRESS
Packard Campus
for Audio Visual Conservation
www.loc.gov/avconservation
Motion Picture and Television Reading Room
www.loc.gov/rr/mopic
Recorded Sound Reference Center
www.loc.gov/rr/record
Soggv
Pnir-'ier's Bind.
COME AND VISIT
AN EXCLUSIVE HOME STORY WITH FULL COLOR PICTURES
»OR*y, OCHTlCMeN,
THIS CONTEST
FOR
WOMEN
OHLYl
In honor of this year's June Brides... Camay offers
iw prizes t
.■ .MM .
EVERY WOMAN CAN ENTER... YOU MAY WIN!
This is the season of beauty and romance and brides!
To honor the June Brides of 1948, Camay is running
a new kind of contest ...for women only! And this
contest is really five contests— you may enter every
week for 5 weeks. Every week, Camay will award a
$1,000 bill. And there are 2,630 prizes in all!
So easy to enter — here's what you do!
First, try Camay. Your first cake of Camay can bring
a smoother, clearer skin— if you give up careless
cleansing— stay ort the Camay Mild-Soap Diet, de-
scribed on the wrapper. And try Bath-Size Camay,
too. Daily baths with Bath-Size Camay can make you
lovelier from head to toes!
Tips that may help to make you a winner!
Discover Camay's advantages— and enter the Contest.
Finish the sentence "I like Camay because ,"
in 25 additional words or less, following the contest
rules. Write about Camay's mildness— its fragrance—
any quality you prefer. You may win $1,000!
EVERY WEEK ££
First Prize- *|,OO0 in Cash
25 Prizes- $IOO Each in Cash
AND
500 MIRRO-MATIC
PRESSURE COOKERS
(4-Quart Size)
2,630 WINNERS IN ALL!
READ THESE EASY RULES!
THE SOAP OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN
1. Complete this sentence, "I like
Camay because "in 25 addi-
tional words or less. Get an official
entry blank from your dealer or
write on one side of a plain sheet
of paper. Print plainly your name
and address.
2. Mail to Camay, Dept. PM, Box
357, Cincinnati 1, Ohio. Enter as
often as you wish, but be sure to
enclose the wrappers from one reg-
ular-size and one bath-size cake of
Camay, or three regular-size wrap-
pers, or facsimiles, with each entry.
3. Any female resident of the con-
tinental United States and Hawaii
may compete, except employees of
Procter & Gamble, their advertis-
ing agencies and their families.
Contests subject to all Federal and
State regulations.
♦. There will be five weekly con-
tests, each with an identical list of
prizes. Opening and closing dates—
CONTEST OPENS CLOSES
1st contest Now Sat., Juno 12
2nd contest Sun., June 13 Sat., June 19
3rd contest Sun., June 20 Sat., June 26
4th contest Sun., June 27 Sat., July 3
5th contest Sun., July 4 Sat, July 10
5. Entries received before mid-
night, Saturday, June 12, will be
entered in the first week's contest.
Thereafter, entries will be entered
in each week's contest as received.
Entries for the final week's contest
must be postmarked before mid-
night, July 10 and received by
July 24, 1948.
6. Prizes awarded each week will
be:
1st Prize— SI. 000.00 in cash.
25 Prizes of $100.00 each In cash.
500 additional prizes, each a Mirro-
Matic Pressure Cooker (4-quart size)
7. Entries will be judged for orig-
inality, sincerity, and aptness of
thought. Judges' decisions will be
final. Only one prize will be
awarded to a person. In case of
ties, the full prize tied for will be
awarded to each tying contestant.
No entries will be returned. En-
tries, contents, and ideas therein
become the property of Procter &
Gamble.
8. First prize winners will be an-
nounced on Camay's radio pro-
gram, "Pepper Young's Family,"
about 3 weeks after the close of
each weekly contest. All winners
will be notified by mail. Prize win-
ner lists will be available approx-
imately one month after the close
of the last contest.
Thornton cutie Patti Marcheret
of Flushing, L. I., has a smile that
takes her places. C'mon along!
Going around in circles (the nicest
circles!) is pert Patti Marcheret—
a famous name model at 18 ! Patti
is a teen-queen with more dates
than a history book. Know why?
Because the same bright 'n beautiful
Ipana smile that makes her such
a terrific fashion model has a
devastating effect on every lad she
meets. Take a leaf from her date-book
—get Ipana today !
Music has charms — but even a Stardust mel-
ody can't outshine the charm of Patti's smile
for current escort Bill Sommer! Because Patti
knows this : firm, healthy gums are important to
sparkling teeth, a radiant smile. So she never
skips her Ipana care !
iffltfkiZ^patfe
Product of Bristol-Myers
Limber-r-r-r! Patti believes
in ballet routines for
keeping her figure see-
worthy. And she follows
this "model" dental routine
for guarding her dazzling
smile: regular brushing
with Ipana Tooth Paste,
then gentle gum massage.
itn. utrut <|ig^$*>&"<£
/
H&3..
Dentists recommend Ipana 2 to 1
over any other tootli paste. And 9 out of
10 dentists recommend massage regu-
larly or in special cases. (Facts from
recent national survey.) Ask your dentist
about massage— and follow his advice.
Helv him guard your smile of beauty!
"Colgate Dental Cream's active penetrating
foam gets into hidden crevices between teeth
— helps clean out decaying food particles —
stop stagnant saliva odors — remove the cause
of much bad breath. And Colgate's soft pol-
ishing agent cleans enamel thoroughly,
gently and safelyP'
LATER-Thanlcs to Colgate Dental Cream
Always use
COLGATE DENTAL CREAM
after you eat and before
every date
JULY, 1948
VOL. 30, NO. 2
J&WS0
W T£££17S/6W
KEYSTONE EDITION
PEOPLE ON THE AIR
Radio's No. One Fan 29
Come and Visit Don McNeill by Helen Bolstad 30
Covering the Conventions '. by Quincy Howe 34
Is Lou Costello On the Level? by William Tusher 38
Twenty Questions by Thea Traum 40
Holly Sloan — In Pictures 42
My Winning Nights with Heidt by Dick Contino 48
The Made-for-each-other Bride and Groom by John Nelson 50
Perry Mason — In Pictures 56
The Wife in the Life of Dennis Day by Robbin Coons 58
Traveler of the Month by Tommy Bartlett 60
Radio Mirror Quiz by Joe Kelly 3
Facing the Music by Duke Ellington 10
Look At The Records by Joe Martin 12
Collector's Corner by Louis Prima 13
What's New From Coast to Coast by Dale Banks 14
Information Booth 20
Tex Beneke — Facing the Music 23
Barbara Whiting 27
Truth or Consequences — In Color 62
Inside Radio 70
It's Here! 73
FOR . BIT.TI
Your Children — and Other People's by Terry Burton 6
Sun Spots by Mary Jane Fulton 8
Life Can Be Beautiful 16
Between the Bookends by Ted Malone 46
Green Stuff \ by Kate Smith 64
v:.
WMCA: Golden Boy Ted Steele 4
KDKA : Pittsburgh Newsman 18
WIBG: A Day With Chuck and By 22
WBEN: All Kinds of Music 24
UBffiBM
People in Television 52
Coast to Coast in Television 54
RADIO MIRROR READER BONUS
"Bless This Ring" — a Rosemary Novelette by Helen Christy Harris 66
ON THE COVER: Don McNeill and his sons; color portrait by Vories Fisher
Editorial Director
FRED R. SAMMIS
Managing Editor
EVELYN L. FIORE
Editor
DORIS McFERRAN
Associate Editor
MARJORIE WALLACE
Art Director
JACK ZASORIN
Associate Art Director
FRANCES MALY
Television
JOAN MTJRPHY LLOYD
Research
TERC GOTO
Hollywood Office: Editor, ANN DAGGETT Managing Editor, McCCLLAH ST. JOHNS
Staff Photographers.HYMlE FINK, STERLING SMITH; Assistant, BETTY JO RICE
KADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR, published monthly by MACPADDEN PUBLICATIONS INC., New York, N. V.
General Business, Editorial and Advertising Offices, 200 East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Hollywood— Beverly Hills
Office- 32 1 S. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills. California. O. J. Elder, President: Harold Wise, .Senior Viee President;
Herbert Drake. Vice President; Joseph Srhultz, Vlee President: S. O. Shapiro, Vice President; Meyer Dworkln. Socre-
tory and Treasurer; Edward P. Lethcn. Advertising Director. Chicago Office: 221 North La Salle St., Leslie R. Gage,
Mer. San Francisco (mice: 1 (1 1 3 Runs BulldlnE, Joseph M. Dooher, Mgr. Los Angeles Office: Suite 908, 649 South
Olive St., George Wcnthcrhy, Mgr. Reentered as Second Class matter March I, 1948, at the Post Office at
New York, N. Y., under the Ac! of March 3, 1879. Subscription rales: U. S. and Possessions. Canada ond Newfound-
land S2.0O per vear. All other countries $0.00 per year. Price per copy: 20c In the United States and Canada.
While Manuscripts, Photographs and in acini's arc submitted at the owner's risk, every effort will be made to return
those found unavull; ■ il accompanied bv sufficient first class postage and explicit name and address. Contributors
are esnec ; Iv advised to be sure to retain copies of their contributions; otherwise they are taking unnecessory risk.
The contents of this magazine may not be reprinted either wholly or In part without permission,
me lunviuui » .> (Member of Marfadden Women's Croup) .,._,„„
Convrlght. 1948, bv Macfadden Publications, Inc. All rights reserved under International Copyright Convention. All
rivlfls reserved in dcr pan-American Copyright Convention. Todos dercchos reservados segun La Convention Pan-
"KriWrnTde Propcdod Llterarlo y ArtlstlcS. Title trademark registered >£«. 8. Patent Office.
Printed in U1. R. A. by Art Color Printing Co., Dunellen, N. J.
RADIO MIRROR QUIZ
Joe Kelly, this
month's Guest
Quizmaster, is
M.C. of NBC's
Quiz Kids, Sunday
4:00 PM, EDT.
1. This screen star
is radio's newest
comedy hit. Who
is she?
2. He's Fred Allen
to his millions of
fans, but what is
his real name?
3. Charlie Cantor,
well-known radio
actor, was a col-
lege teacher.
What character
is he on what fa-
mous program?
4. What singing star of his own show
was taught by his mother, a former
concert singer?
5. On what program did Eddie Cantor
and Edgar Bergen get their start
in radio?
MY FAVORITE QUIZ QUESTIONS
A. Who was the first President to live in
the White House?
B. Who invented the automobile?
wa|Mi
ANSWERS:
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Everybody loves
SAN FRANCISCO!
Its hills, cable cars, bright sunshine and fog, bridges, cosmo-
politan atmosphere, invigorating all-year climate, people,
life — there is so much to like about San Francisco. Every-
where are breath-taking views. Beautiful homes cling to
the hillsides. Stately buildings reveal its civic pride, edu-
cational and cultural achievements.
Here where a gay and fascinating city contributes so
much to the pleasure of living, and visiting, it is natural
that San Franciscans enjoy the fine flavor of —
Beech-NuUGum
It has the flavor
everyone likes
\Beech-Nut BEECHIES
\Com/y Coated Gum
— good, too —
Ted . Steele, gentleman farmer — the role that's dearest to his heart.
Ted's only complaint: a day is
limited to twenty-four hours!
<mm>m
^Jed Steele
e
Band leader, platter spinner, and more — Ted has a deep,
rich baritone which he accompanies on the Hammond organ.
A VERSATILE young man is WMCA's Ted Steele, the
disc jockey extraordinary, whose only complaint
with life is the archaic custom which limits a day to
twenty-four hours. As it is, the "Golden Boy" of the air
now manages to be one of the busiest men in radio and a
highly successful gentleman farmer on the side by
double-timing from dawn to dusk.
As a platter spinner on the New York Independent
station, the one-time NBC page boy goes on the air
twice daily from 11 to 11:45 A.M., and from 2 to 5 P.M.
on days no baseball is scheduled. On baseball days he
precedes the baseball, starting 2 P.M. He plays the latest
records, coaxes sweet music from the Hammond organ
and sings in a deep, rich baritone when he's not inter-
viewing big names from the show business whirl.
From WMCA Ted hustles each night to the famous
Casino-on-the-Park in the Essex House to lead his re-
organized band which is attracting recognition as one of
the most promising of the new musical aggregations.
But it's down on his farm* at Doylestown, Pa., in the
heart of celebrity-conscious Bucks County, where
Farmer Ted Steele really has a chance to work at a
hobby that has turned out to be almost as profitable as
his entertainment endeavors.
The thirty-year-old showman grew up on a dairy
farm in Belmont, Mass. He was milking cows and rais-
ing rabbits before he was six. At the age of thirteen
he won a scholarship to the New England Conservatory
of Music and farming was temporarily shelved while he
pursued his musical career.
Success came fast to the handsome New Englander
and just before World War II he purchased a modest
farm at Pearl River, N. Y. . . . He raised thousands of
white mice, guinea pigs and rabbits for wartime medical
research and was awarded a special citation by the War
Department.
The next step was a modern, 150-acre farm at Doyles-
town. Here Steele raises pure-bred Guernsey cattle
which have brought him many blue ribbons at county
and state fairs. In addition, he has become the largest
poultry breeder in the area.
Steele is now recognized as an authority, particularly
on modern farming methods. Last year he was hired
by Westinghouse as a special farm consultant. He
personally answers hundreds of letters a week from
farmers throughout the country.
Obviously, Ted couldn't maintain his pace of pro-
ductive activity without help. And the head of the
assistance department is pretty Doris Steele, his wife.
Mrs. Steele, a former agent, manages her husband's
business affairs, runs the farm while he's away and still
finds time to raise two handsome little Steeles — Susan,
six, and Sally, age five.
There's never time for a dull moment in the busy
lives of this unique young family. Now if someone
would only pass a bill in Congress making each day
forty-eight hours long, the Steeles could accomplish
twice as much.
Look, Buttercup,
your trouble
is right under your nose !
There's a new man in her life. It's her
first real date with him and she's been
getting ready for it all day long. He is
the one-and-only and tonight is, in-
deed, the night for romance.
Unfortunately it isn't going to work
out that way.
Before nine o'clock he'll be wonder-
ing what he ever saw in her . . . Cupid
will put the arrow back in his quiver . . .
and she'll cry herself to sleep wonder-
ing whatever happened to turn his
ardor into indifference.
Nonsense! Don't waste your sympathy
on her! She doesn't deserve it. No
woman does who blindly takes her
breath for granted . . . even for one
night. After all, nothing puts you in
such a bad light as halitosis (unpleasant
breath).
Isn't it just common sense and good
grooming ro always rinse the mouth
with Listerine Antiseptic before any
date where you wish to be at your best?
You go forth with a wonderful sense of
assurance that your brearh is fresher,
sweeter, less likely to offend.
While some cases of halitosis are of
systemic origin, most cases, say some
authorities, are due to the bacterial
fermentation of tiny food particles
clinging to mouth surfaces. Listerine
Antiseptic halts such fermentation, then
overcomes the odors fermentation
causes. Use it night and morning,
Lambert Pharmacal Company
St. Louis, Missouri
"Poor thing! Poor thing!" you say. Before any date LISTERINE ANTISEPTIC for oral hygi
NEW! Have you tasted the zippy MINT flavor of today's Listerine TOOTH PASTE with 25% more Lusterfoam?
rouB Childben
mm
1^
/-J
Commissioner James B. Nolan, of
the NYC Police Department, had ideas
about children to offer the radio
audience of The Second Mrs. Burton.
-
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EVER since Commissioner Nolan of the
New York City Police Department
visited us here in Dickston I've been
doing a lot of thinking about some of the
things he told me. I've talked it over with
Stan, too, and he agrees with me that the
Commissioner had some extremely stimu-
lating things to say about the duty of
women toward their own youngsters and
other people's'.
In what better way could any woman
spend her free time than in constructive, interesting
work that is of real benefit to the community in which
she lives? And any community, regardless of size,
Commissioner Nolan told me, can have a really active
recreational program for youngsters which would be
interesting and of real benefit to the town. The way
to get it started? Cooperation between the women of
the community and the police department, patterned
after New York City's Police Athletic League.
( "Through ; the PAL," the Commissioner told me,
"New York's policemen instill in youngsters good
character, a sense of responsibility, and, so very im-
portant, a friendly attitude between the boys and
girls and the police officers. The program provides an
opportunity for youngsters to pursue any activity in
which they're interested."
What can work in New York can work anywhere
By
TERRY
BURTON
else, too. In fact there are already many
police-sponsored youth programs, all over
the country, giving youngsters a chance for
some real fun that they'd never have if
such programs hadn't been brought into
being. Of course, there are already many
agencies and organizations that seem to
have aims and objectives very much like
the PAL. Commissioner Nolan explained
that the policeman's, as well as the whole
town's concern should be the youngster
who isn't served by any other organization — the one
who needs help most of all. They won't be hard to
find, those children — it's up to us to find them and
offer them the opportunities they need. Through our
own efforts, and with the cooperation of neighbors
and friends, combined with the always-ready service
of the police of our towns, we can make our own
community a better place for growing up.
I'd like to pass along to you what Commissioner
Nolan said, just before he left us. In answer to my
thought that the main duty of a Police Department
was to patrol the streets, to keep law and order, he
said, "The prevention of crime, Mrs. Burton, is only
one of the responsibilities of the police. There's a
bigger responsibility involved — that of shaping the
future of our young citizens. We must extend to every
growing boy and girl a helping hand."
Every Wednesday a Family Counselor vi.it.. II.. Second Mrs. Burton ,h.ard Monday* through Fridays at 2 P. M. EDT, on CBS) to discuss a
problem of interest to homemnkers. On this paKe eB<.n montn Terry Burton reports on one of these discussions to readers of Radio Mirror. If
you have n problem vou would like to hear discussed. w„n't you „nn(j |, n|ong to Terry Burton, in care of Radio Mirror?
In Nation-wide test... New Woodbury Powder
Preferred on
Every Beauty Count !
M/VS 4- TO foVER ALL LBAD/A/6 BRANDS OF POWPSR
Rovers s*m'
The Winner! The new and overwhelm-
ing favorite of women in a recent
nation-wide test is the amazing New
Woodbury Powder I
4 out of 5 preferred Woodbury to the
powder they had been using!
In this most exacting test of all— against
a woman's own favorite face powder—
Woodbury won decisively. Actually,
Woodbury won over 17 leading face
powders! And women preferred New
Woodbury Powder for every beautv
quality!
Today see the exciting difference on
your skin . . . the astonishing beauty
that's yours in New Woodbury Powder!
TWICE NEW I
New Secret Ingredient! New Woodbury
Powder contains a secret ingredient
that gives a satin-smooth finish to your
skin. It gives a natural, "unpowdered"
look, yet covers tiny blemishes!
New Revolutionary Process! In all cos-
metic histoiy there lias never been
anything like Woodbury's new blend-
ing machine. It whirls color into pow-
der and powder into color with a force
so violent a tornado would seem tame
in comparison. Result: fineness of tex-
ture that's "incredible!". . . richness of
shade that's "unbelievable!". . . freedom
from streaking that "couldn't be true"
before New Woodbury Powder!
^ 6 exciH shades
(TS LUCE STAZT/m LIFE ALL OVER AGAIN WITH AAL UVCREO/SLY LOVELIER, COMPLEX/ON/
ut/n, 'wwuwt we a,
twiel £we wwrubteti eac/i
tide, to btavt yx)WH toot/
MARY JANE
FULTOIV
Lucille Norman is beard on
NBC, Sat. 10:30 P.M., PDT.
BEING a fair-skinned, blonde, and blue-eyed girl,
Lucille Norman has always had to be careful when
in the sun. In fact, like all sensitive-skinned gals,
she never could stay in it for any length of time without
suffering a painful burn.
However, when she married actor Bruce Kellogg
(Lucille stars in NBC's Saturday night program, The
Music Hour from Hollywood), they took a cute little
house right on the beach at Malibu, California. Bruce
has light brown hair, dark eyes, and a skin which tans
to a beautiful bronze. He likes to spend hours in the
sun. So Lucille decided that, to be a match for her
surfboard-riding husband, she should learn how to
take it, too.
She tried the suntan lotions and creams which Bruce
and their friends recommended. Everyone, she dis-
covered, has a favorite kind. Finally, she hit on one
that seemed to be just right for her.
Before going to the beach, she applies it to all the
exposed parts of her body. Because her figure is shapely
and slender enough to wear a brief bathing suit be-
RADIO MIRROR for BETTER LIVING
comingly, this means a great deal of Lucille! Into her
beach bag, along with a miniature comb and brush,
compact, and other beach necessities, goes her anti-
burn, tan-inducing remedy." She re-applies it fre-
quently, to keep her skin well lubricated.
Although the picture of her sitting on the beach
doesn't show her wearing sunglasses, she does. She has
several pairs with different-colored frames to harmonize
with the colors of various outfits, and wears them to
screen her eyes from the sun's strong glare, and to keep
her from getting squint-lines and crows' feet around
the corners of her eyes.
At first she sunned herself three minutes a day, on
each side. Gradually, she increased the time each day.
Now, over a period of months she has become used to
longer exposure, and can enjoy the sun for several hours
daily. A mistake many girls make, she now knows, is
trying to acquire a beautiful tan in too short a time.
Obtain one slowly, she advises, and either duck into
the shade often or cover up with a beach robe. Also,
wear a wide-brimmed beach hat.
A healthy look is better than a burned-to-a-crisp one.
If you don't get to a beach often enough, you can achieve
an even fake tan with the aid of this season's lovely
suntan make-ups. So why risk too much sun and wind
exposure? "I know from experience," says Lucille, "that
a sensitive-skinned girl is in for trouble, unless she
learns how to get along with Old Sol."
Umli MPQO/EOl
Richard Hudnut Home Permanent
^<tfk (Avenue, SdoK
If you've ever put your
hair up in curlers, it's
that easy to give yourself
the NEW, IMPROVED RICHARD
HUDNUT HOME PERMANENT.
This salon-type home
permanent is based on the
same type of preparations-
used in the Richard Hudnut
Fifth Avenue Salon. With
it, you can set your hair in any
style . . . from sleek cap to a
halo of ringlets. Ask to see the
RICHARD HUDNUT HOME
permanent at your favorite
cosmetic counter— today!
Price $2.75; refill without rods,
$1.50 (all prices plus
304 Federal Tax).
/it 7 tileifs Bffiil
f Saves up to one-half usual waving time
ii**-*t^^- '^ One-third more waving lotion . . . more
*''***' penetrating, but gentle on hair!
jjjr .**>=" W- ^ Longer, stronger end-papers make hair
»<.«*"' "i«<*v» -*■ HraSm. '""^ tips easier to handle.
mm. '*'./:' Ik
,.£, Double-strength neutralizer anchors wave
"^ faster, makes curl stronger for longer.
j;"* Improved technique gives deep, soft
^P^j£ .-^t Zf crown wave . . . non-frizzy ends.
^ ^^^^^- £ Only home permanent kit to include
^F ^^fli V reconditioning creme rinse.
Two lengths of rods. Standard size
for ringlet ends; extra-long for
deep crown waves.
Cary Grant, recent guest on NBC Music Hall (Thurs., 9)
heard some of star Al Jolson's best off-mike comments.
Dick Brown and Kay Armen sing the mys-
tery songs on ABC's new Stop the Music!
Through Dr. Wayland Hand of UCLA,
Jo Stafford establishes a Folklore Prize.
By
DIKE ELLINGTON
10
DON'T be too surprised if Frank Sinatra blossoms out as
a full-fledged movie director. You see, the big boys over
at MGM are very keenly interested in a soon-to-be-
made screen test of singer Beryl Davis. The big secret is
that Frankie's directing the test. If it pans out successfully,
Frank will receive a musical film for his first official assign-
ment.
* * *
Now that the CBS Club 15 stint for Bob Crosby is over
until the coming Fall, Bob will debut his newly organized
band at the Strand Theater in New York. There'll be several
of the old "Bobcats" in the new group.
* * *
So successful were Lena Home's recent European and
Mexican personal appearance tours that rumor now has her
making preparations for another overseas trip this year. This
time, Lena will probably visit the Scandinavian countries.
* 4i lit
The introduction of London Records to the American
public has lost England some of her best musical talent.
Thus far Denny Dennis, pianist George Shearing, guitarist
Dave Goldberg and drummer-vocalist Jack Parnell have
arrived in America for personal appearance tours, while
songstresses Vera Lynn and Anne Shelton are also sched-
uled to make the transatlantic crossing. And that's only
Eddie Duchin, vacationing at Sun Valley, shared his
birthday cake with Mrs. Duchin and Tyrone Power (1.) .
On Duke Ellington's WMCA show, guest Lena Home spoke
happily of her European tour, looked forward to another.
fair, what with such American talent as Danny Kaye, Mae
West, Mickey Rooney, The Ink Spots, Martha Raye and
Lena Home having invaded England recently.
* * *
On Jean Sablon's recent trip to England he was signed to
make an unusual soundtrack-only recording of a musical
introduction to the new Gainsborough film, "Miranda." The
song is the title tune, written especially for the motion
picture.
* * *
Dinah Shore has a promise from Columbia Records that,
just as soon as the ban on discing is over, she will be allowed
to wax "Melissa," written in honor of her daughter by an
Ohio fan. Those who have heard the song claim it's a real
"sleeper."
* * *
Ralph "Muffit" Moffat, disc jockey on Allied Forces Net-
work in Munich, Germany, writes that he is featuring
Johnny Long records on his "Music's No Mystery" program.
It's a show primarily aired for GIs in occupied Europe, but
Moffat has a large audience of Europeans who appreciate
good American popular music.
* * *
By this time most of the Kenton fans will know, but for
the few who haven't heard, there have been some important
changes in the group. Shelly Manne has turned over the
drum chair to Irving Kluger and Conti Condoli is on one
trumpet in place of Al Porcino.
* * *
And, speaking of the Kenton band, those who've been
wondering what happened to Kai Winding, who was Stan's
trombone star for a long time, take note of the following
fact. Kai and be-bopper Red Rodney have a little group of
their own that's doing quite well for itself in the Midwest.
* * *
We don't want to believe that a fan could do something
like this but — A recent robbery of an Atlantic City record
shop resulted in the loss of all the proprietor's cash and his
complete stock of Sarah Vaughan records! So, if you see
police hanging around Sarah's next concert appearance
you'll know whj' they're there.
* * *
Already known as one of the best golfers in show busi-
ness, Sammy Kaye is readying himself for his entry into
the National Amateur Golf Championship Tournament to
be held early in September at the Memphis Country Club,
in Memphis. Tennessee. And readying himself is no easy
job, considering that he's involved in making one of those
gruelling trips of one night stands with his band.
11
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c^Look at the
RECORDS
By Joe Martin
Doris Day's Columbia record, reviewed be-
low, has its humorous side — but the other
side balances with something sentimental.
DANCING OR LISTENING
DORIS DAY (Columbia) — Doris pairs a pseudo-hillbilly tune, "It's A
Quiet Town," with a dreamy ballad, "It's The Sentimental Thing To Do."
The first side includes some humorous patter and fine vocal support from
the Modernaires. The reverse has possibilities as a popular favorite.
JULIA LEE (Capitol) — Julia and Her Boyfriends present "Crazy World"
and "That's What I Like." Instrumental support on each of these is by a
group of fine jazz musicians. Julia's piano and voice combination is tops.
Oddly, though, saxist Benny Carter plays trombone on "Crazy World."
JOSEPH FUCHS (MGM)— The brilliant young violinist caresses two lovely
selections, supported by Macklin Marrow's string group. The familiar "inter-
mezzo" may be your favorite — we prefer the haunting "Lotus Land."
FRANKIE LAINE (Mercury)— The highly stylistic Mr. Laine is particu-
larly effective with "That Ain't Right" — strictly 12 bar blues and well done.
Reverse, "May I Never Love Again" is a melody of some merit.
FREDDY MARTIN (RCA Victor)— Who cares about technical musician-
ship when Freddy Martin pairs "The New Look" with "Jungle Rhumba?"
The lyric on the former is inspired, and much the same can be said for
Barclay Allen's piano solo on the latter.
KATE SMITH (MGM)— The perennial Kate offers "Long After Tonight"
and "The Miracle Of The Bells." We much prefer the first side for its
beautiful melody and restrained vocal. Smith fans will undoubtedly welcome
either one.
HADDA BROOKS (Modern) — Another gal who is equally effective with
a vocal or piano solo is Hadda Brooks. Her version of "Honey, Honey, Honey"
is as sensuous a disc as we've ever heard. It's barrelhouse piano on "Holly-
wood House Party Boogie."
ANNE SHELTON (London) — She of the husky voice is at her very best
with "Oh My Darling." We'll take it for the best she's ever done. Most
will probably prefer "Love Of My Life." But even Cole Porter can be wrong
sometimes.
JIMMY DURANTE (MGM)— The label says Jimmy sings. Call it what
you will, it's Durante. That should be enough to tell you that "The Day
I Read A Book" and "Chidabee-Ch-Ch" are happy, hokum, hoarse, hysterical
and humdingers.
THE HARMONAIRES (Majestic)— A vocal group that sings with taste,
vigor and vitality. David Newlin handles the solo part on "I'll Get Along
Somehow," while the group presents "Runnin' Wild" as a choral classic.
EDDY HOWARD (Majestic)— "Encore, Cherie" is the tune that's been
recorded by many a top artist. Eddy and his trio sparkle, however, on "Just
Because." That's the side that's based on a hillbilly hit of a while ago.
ALBUM ARTISTRY
INSIDE U. S. A. (Columbia)— Buddy Clark and Pearl Bailey shine bril-
liantly in this three-record set. Pearl sings "Blue Grass" and "Protect Me"
in her inimitable fashion. Buddy and the Mitchell Ayres Orchestra combine
to offer "My Gal Is Mine Once More," "Rhode Island Is Famous For You,"
"First Prize At The Fair" and "Haunted Heart."
RUMBA DE CUBA (Capitol I— It's Chuy Reyes and his Hollywood
Mocamho Orchestra who play this group of eight tangy and piquant Cuban
rumbas. Close your eyes and you'll imagine yourself in the famous Mocambo
or the Nalionale in Havana — take your pick. "Blen! Blen ! Blen!" and "Negra
Leono" are our favorites.
FACING the MUSIC
L^oltector 5 L<
orner
By LOUIS PRIMA
Very much as expected, this month's
guest collector, Louis Prima, selected
novelty songs as his topic. Louis' series
of novelties recorded with his band for
RCA-Victor would in themselves make
a good basis for a collection.
The close race for popularity be-
tween ballads and novelties continues
neck and neck. It would be interesting
to know what exact percentage of fans
gets the bigger kick out of such lush
tunes as "Love Of My Life" or the
sentimental "You Were Meant For
Me," as contrasted with the zany,
screwball appeal of "Three Little
Fishies," "The Music Goes Round and
Round" or my own recent "Oh, Flor-
ence." It's a toss-up, I'm sure. The
current crop of wacky ditties, however,
bears out my contention that as long
as we keep our sense of humor, these
inspired bits of zany za-zu-zaz will
keep up the spinning. I'd just as soon
start collecting with some of the more
recent daffy discs.
The irrepressible Spike Jones demon-
strates a frantic and imaginative tech-
nique in his riotous effect for RCA-
Victor with "Down In Jungle Town,v"
a corn treatment in the style of "way
back when." The modern touch, how-
ever, includes a miniature "darkest
Africa" travelogue with a "Peg O' My
Heart" interpolation. But then maybe
you'll prefer the coupling. "Ugga Ugga
Boo Ugga Boo Boo Ugga."
You were no doubt as surprised as I
was with Ray Noble's droll rendition
of "Suspicion," on Columbia, a fast
patter-type of song sung by the maestro
himself with an anglicized Phil Harris
style of expression. Ray tells in a
veddy, veddy British manner about a
husband's confusion in figuring out his
wife's behavior.
There's a place in my heart for that
great hit, "Mahana," which I believe
will be one of the lasting novelties.
The ingratiating manner in which
Peggy Lee lets loose with the lyrics
really knocks me out. Her cute ac-
cented characterization is tops.
Dorothy Shay is a gal with a way
with a ditty, and her "Sample Song"
is a prime example of her talent for
a provocative phrase. The lyrics would
call for lyrical praise from any record-
ing artist.
•If you're fond of these goofy tunes,
then latch on to the ones lately made
by the Prima band, "Tutti Tutti Piz-
zicato" and "The Bee Song." We're
kind of proud of that disc. If you have
as much fun listening as we did wax-
ing, you'll make both of us happy.
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13
Dinah Shore, chosen as favorite girl
vocalist, shows her scroll to Johnny.
Radio Mirror editor Doris McFerran pays a visit
to Sports Newsreel to present Bill Stern, chosen
favorite sports announcer, with his Award scroll.
Three top favorites get together: Don Wilson, best
announcer; Jack Benny, favorite comedian, and Ralph
Edwards, M.C of Truth or Consequences, best quiz.
On these two page's ure pictures made during
the presentation of scrolls to the winners of
the first annual Radio Mirror Awards poll.
My Friend Irma, best new program : Marie Wilson —
Irma — Mac St. Johns, Radio Mirror's Hollywood
managing editor, with Cathy Lewis, Cy Howard.
A SPECIAL network is being established
within the city of Philadelphia by the
Mutual Broadcasting System for its
coverage of the Republican and Democratic
conventions in that city during June and
July. Lines are being installed within Phila-
delphia tying together the six hotels where
the delegates and candidates will be housed,
Convention Hall, Mutual affiliate WIP, po-
litical headquarters and Mutual's own con-
trol point in one of the most comprehensive
political coverage plans ever made by any
network. With these arrangements the
entire city will be linked to Mutual's special
master control unit.
* * *
The G.O.P. national convention will be
meeting some stiff radio-video competition.
The Louis-Walcott fight is scheduled for
June 23rd, the third day of the convention.
Raised eyebrows department . . . We have
a little item here which states that a recent
visitor to the African Congo reports that once
fierce African tribes have abandoned their
tom-toms and are going in for record col-
lecting. Guess whose are most popular, yet —
Guy Lombardo's!
* * *
Whenever you feel a bit hopeless about the
future — think of this. We're probably leaving
it in pretty good hands, judging by results on
MBS's Keep Up With The Kids program.
To date, the kids have scored some 380 points
ahead of their celebrity parents. Stage,
screen and radio stars appearing on the pro-
14
Vote for best comedy program went to
Red Skelton- — a proud and happy fellow I
Bill Bivens, Jane Wilson accept best orehestra
leader award from Fred Sammis, Radio Mirror's
supervising editor, for vacationing Fred Waring,
Radio Mirror's Mac St. Johns presented the award
to Joan Davis, and announcer Ben Gage offered con-
gratulations to the listeners' favorite comedienne.
Ann Daggett, Hollywood editor of Radio Mirror,
finds a moment to chat with Bing Crosby, winner-
and-still-ehamp listeners' favorite male singer.
B¥ DALE BANKS
gram with their offspring* have had their
confidence shaken and their IQs shattered.
For example, actor Jimmie Gleason's grand-
son walloped him 70 to 30 during a broad-
cast. Penny Singleton's daughter white-
washed mamma to the tune of 50 to nothing.
Walter O'Keefe's son scored 110 to 40 over
his father, while Lee Bowman's daughter
showed him up by a 140 to 10 victory. A
couple of mothers have come out ahead —
Butch Jenkins' mamma made it 90-60 and
Quiz Kid, or rather ex-Quiz Kid, Harve
Fishman's mother won 60-40.
* * *
Ralph Edwards plans to run about half a
dozen Truth or Consequences contests an-
nually. All will have a charity angle. "The
Walking Man" stunt was the most successful
of his ideas in terms of mail pulling, money
received and prizes awarded. Edwards
turned some 1,500,000 dollars over to the
American Heart Fund.
* * *
Delayed broadcast recordings of shows to
be played back to affiliated stations at the
same hour in each community, regardless of
differences due to daylight saving time, will
be used by the ABC network through Scotch
sound recording tape. The network has pur-
chased the greatest amount of magnetic
recording tape so far sold to one purchaser —
2,500,000 feet. The tape is said to be a vast
improvement over all other methods of
recording. (Continued on page 25)
15
lfm Coast to Coast
Radio Mirror editor Doris McFerran pays a visit
to Sports Newsreel to present Bill Stern, chosen
favorite sports announcer, with his Award scroll.
Bill Bivens, Jane Wilson accept best orchestra
leader award from Fred Samnris. Badio Mirror's
supervising editor, for vacationing Fred Waring.
rhree top favorites get together: Don Wilson, best
announcer; Jink Benny, favorite romedian, and Balph
Edwards, M.C of Truth or Consequences, best qniz.
On thcuc l«n |iuk*» »'rr pictures made during
• he presentation of srrolls lo I lie winners of
Che first annual Kmlio Mirror Award* pull.
My Friend Irraa, best new program: Marie Wilson —
Iriiw — Mac St. Johns, Radio Mirror's Hollywood
managing editor, with Cathy Lewis, Cy Howard.
A SPECIAL network is being established
within the city of Philadelphia by the
Mutual Broadcasting System for its
coverage of the Republican and Democratic
conventions in that city during June and
July. Lines are being installed within Phila-
delphia tying together the six hotels where
the delegates and candidates will be housed,
Convention Hall, Mutual affiliate WIP, po-
litical headquarters and Mutual's own con-
trol point in one of the most comprehensive
politic^ coverage plans ever made by any
letwork. With these arrangements the
attire city wV\i be linked to Mutual's special
er control unit,
The G.O.P. nation^ contention will be
.eeting some stiff tadiQ^-ide0 competition.
The Louis-Walcott fight is scheduled for
June 23rd, the third day of the convention.
Raised eyebrows department . . . We have
a little item here which states that a recent
visitor to the African Congo reports that once
fierce African tribes have abandoned their
tom-toms and are going in for record col-
lecting. Guess whose are most popular, yet-—
Guy Lombardo's!
Whenever you feel a bit hopeless about the
future — think of this. We're probably leaving
it in pretty good hands, judging by results on
MBS's Keep Up With The Kids program.
To date, the kids have scored some 380 points
ahead of their celebrity parents. Stage,
screen and radio stars appearing on the pro-
Radio Mirror's Mac St. Johi
lo Joan Davis, and announcer
gratuhttions to the listeners
nted the award
age offered can-
te comedienne.
Ann Daggett, Hollywood editor of Radio Mirror,
finds a moment to chat with Bing Crosby, v. inner-
find-etill-champ listeners' favorite male sin«er.
gram with their offspring have had their
confidence shaken and their IQs shattered.
For example, actor Jimmie Gleason's grand-
son walloped him 70 to 30 during a broad-
cast. Penny Singleton's daughter white-
washed mamma to the tune of 50 to nothing.
Walter O'Keefe's son scored 110 to 40 over
his father, while Lee Bowman's daughter
showed him up by a 140 to 10 victory. A
couple of mothers have come out ahead —
Butch Jenkins' mamma made it 90-60 and
Quiz Kid, or rather ex-Quiz Kid, Harve
Fishman's mother won 60-40.
Ralph Edwards plans to run about half a
dozen Truth or Consequences contests an-
nually. All will have a charity angle. "The
BY DUE BANKS
Walking Man" stunt was the most successful
of his ideas in terms of mail pulling, money
received and prizes awarded. Edwards
turned some 1,500,000 dollars over to the
American Heart Fund.
Delayed broadcast recordings of shows to
be played back to affiliated stations at the
same hour in each community, regardless of
differences due to daylight saving time, will
be used by the ABC network through Scotch
sound recording tape. The network has pur-
chased the greatest amount of magnetic
recording tape so far sold to one purchaser —
2,500,000 feet. The tape is said to be a vast
improvement over all other methods of
recording. (Continued on page 25)
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THERE'S SOMETHING TO OFFER
Radio Mirror's Best Letter of the Month
Dear Papa David:
All my life, up till the past year, I've
taken for granted my lack of looks and
lack of any particular talent or ability.
After high school I took a job in one of
the local offices and have been there
these fifteen years. I've never married
and while I did participate in church
gatherings and small social events
sponsored by our community, I was al-
ways part of the crowd.
After work one day last year, I
dropped into the corner grocery to buy
the week's supplies. "I wish," I told
the grocer, "food wasn't so expensive.
It cuts such a hole into my budget."
The grocer looked at me and said, "I
wish I could speak English so good as
you."
I thought about the grocer all
through the next day and after work I
returned to the store. I was a little
embarrassed as I said it, but I did man-
age to ask the grocer if he would like
me to give him English lessons. His
face lit up like a Christmas tree.
And so started my giving lessons in
English to the grocer. After he had
taken a few lessons, he asked if he
might bring his wife. "I only," he ex-
plained, "have to teach her when I go
home. She's so eager to learn, so the
children won't laugh at her."
Anna, the wife, was just as eager a
pupil as her husband and soon, she
asked if she could bring the butcher's
wife whose store was next to theirs. I
agreed. This practice of spreading the
class to include all the foreign born
wishing to attend, continued. Soon I
had about fifteen pupils.
Word got around that I was doing
this, and I found people going out of
their way to speak to me who never
noticed me before. Also, I worked bet-
ter as an employee with this new in-
terest. My boss called me in one day,
to tell me how proud . he Was of my
homeschool teaching and to ask if I had
any suggestions about starting a public
speaking class for the office.
And one day, as I was hurriedly leav-
ing the office to prepare for my night
class, I overheard some of the office
workers, men and women discussing
me. "There," said our most promising
salesman, "goes that nice schoolteacher.
Isn't she attractive!"
I felt attractive all the way home. I'm
not really, but life is opening up such
new vistas, since I got outside myself
and tried to help others.
And while I've not been transformed
from an ugly duckling into a swan, I
have changed so much for the better!
I hope I have made my point clear.
That no matter how little we may think
we have to offer, in offering it we may
find it means a great deal to others.
B. K.
Following are this month's ten-dollar
letters :
WHAT COLOR IS HUMANITY?
Dear Papa David:
One night, a few years ago, my sister
and I walked down to the corner ice
cream parlor for a malt. All was not
right with our worlds, since both our
husbands were off fighting a war. A
war to free the enslaved peoples of the
world. A war to free the world of hate
and racial prejudice. I was thinking of
this very thing when we noticed a
RADIO MIRROR OFFERS $50 EACH MONTH FOR YOUR LETTERS
Somewhere in everyone's life is hidden a key to happiness. It may be a half-for-
gotten friend, a period of suffering, an unimportant incident, which suddenly illumi-
nated the whole meaning of life. If you are treasuring such a memory, won't you
write to Papa David about it? For the letter he considers best each month, Radio
Mirror will pay fifty dollars; for each of the others that we have room enough to
print, ten dollars. No letters can be returned. Address your Life Can Be Beautiful let-
ter to Papa David, Radio Mirror Magazine, 205 East 42 Street, New York 17, New York.
white-haired old colored man a little
way ahead of us. On either side of him
were two small boys, one about six, the
other about two. As we watched the
grandfather was explaining something
to the older of the two boys and the
little one lagged behind. A few steps
brought us even with him. We parted
a little and he looked up with the most
beautifulsmile in the world on his dark
little face. He held up two chubby
brown hands and my sister took one, I
the other. We had walked only a few
steps when the white haired old gentle-
man noticed his small charge was not
beside him, and turned to see where he
was. When he saw the little fellow's
hands in ours, he stopped and called to
him sharply. The little boy looked
abashed. He didn't know what he had
done that was wrong, but he ran on
ahead. The old negro scolded him un-
mercifully, then looked at us apolo-
getically before he walked on.
The old man, in his wisdom and the
experience of many years, knew that
that little boy — because of his skin be-
ing dark would suffer many hurts and
indignities from such as us. If he could
teach him now to avoid white men, he
could save him at least a part of the
hurts later. He was trying to prepare
him for what he would meet in just a
few short years. We didn't need to be
told what was in the old man's heart —
we could read it in his eyes. He did not
distrust the kindness we had shown,
but he knew the little fellow wouldn't
meet much of it, and it would be easier
if he learned not to expect it.
I have a son now — three years old.
Like all mothers, I day dream about
what he'll be when he grows up. A
doctor? A lawyer? President, maybe?
And I often think of that other little
boy. Yes, he can be a doctor or a law-
yer— if he's exceptionally brilliant and
has an un Usual amount of courage and
determination. If he's an ordinary little
boy, or if he's a little bit shy, about the
best he can do is hope to be a porter,
cook, bellhop, or some other servile job.
My son can be almost anything he wants
to be or has the ability to be, even
though he is an average little boy and
even if he grows up to be an average
man, for this is America.
The little negro's dad may have been
fighting for (Continued on page 19)
Life Can Be Beautiful, written by Carl Bixby
and Don Becker, is heard Monday through
Friday on NBC stations at 12 noon, PDT;
1 P.M. MDT; 2 P.M. CDT; 3 P.M. EDT.
<r"1
/. "Here's how I manage desk-to-dining
dates," says this smart career girl. "I wear
a simple black linen dress to the office, with
the smartest of tailored jackets. And, of
course, rely on new Odorono cream to keep
my clothes free from perspiration stains
and odor." One dah of Odorono in the A.M.
keeps you dainty a full 24 hours.
And wait till you see how creamy-smooth
Odorono stays in the jar. Never gritty (even
if you leave the cap off for weeks).
2. "When date time comes, I remove
the jacket, add beads and crisp white
petticoat, flowers and gloves — and I'm
set for a romantic evening. I'm confident
of my charm all evening too, thanks to
new Odorono cream." Because the Halgene
in Odorono gives more effective protection
than any deodorant known.
Yet stainless Odorono is so safe and
gentle — you can use it even after shaving.
Try Odorono yourself — and see.
ilW Oltfunva Gagoa* %^A\
17
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glowing . . . magically obedient
to your touch. That's why
professional beauticians use this
shampoo most. Even in hard
water, billows instantly into
fleecy lather. Deep-down
cleansing action removes dan-
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five full ounces 60c
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Favorite of
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THERE'S SOMETHING TO OFFER
Radio Mirror's Best Letter of the Month
Dear Papa David:
All my life, up till the past year, I ve
taken for granted my lack of looks and
lack of any particular talent or ability.
After high school I took a job m one ot
the local offices and have been there
these fifteen years. I've never married
and while I did participate in church
gatherings and small social events
sponsored by our community, I was al-
ways part of the crowd.
After work one day last year, I
dropped into the corner grocery to buy
the week's supplies. "I wish," I told
the grocer, "food wasn't so expensive.
It cuts such a hole into my budget."
The grocer looked at me and said, "I
wish I could speak English so good as
you."
I thought about the grocer all
through the next day and after work I
returned to the store. I was a little
embarrassed as I said it, but I did man-
age to ask the grocer if he would like
me to give him English lessons. His
face lit up like a Christmas tree.
And so started my giving lessons in
English to the grocer. After he had
taken a few lessons, he asked if he
might bring his wife. "I only," he ex-
plained, "have to teach her when I go
home. She's so eager to learn, so the
children won't laugh at her."
Anna, the wife, was just as eager a
pupil as her husband and soon, she
asked if she could bring the butcher's
wife whose store was next to theirs. I
agreed. This practice of spreading the
class to include all the foreign born
wishing to attend, continued. Soon I
had about fifteen pupils.
Word got around that I was doiner
this, and I found people going out of
their way to speak to me who never *
noticed me before. Also, I worked bet- :
ter as an employee with this new in- '
terest. My boss called me in one day
to tell me how proud he was of my I
honieschool teaching and to ask if I had',
any suggestions about starting a public?'
speaking class for the office.
And one day; as I was hurriedly leav-
ing the office to prepare for my night
class, I overheard some of the office
workers, men and women discussing
me. "There," said our most promising'
salesman, "goes that nice schoolteacher. L
Isn't she attractive!"
I felt attractive all the way home. I'm;
not really, but life is opening up such*
new vistas, since I got outside myself i"
and tried to help others.
And while I've not been transformed F
from an ugly duckling into a swan, It-
have changed so much for the better! r
I hope I have made my point clear.
That no matter how little we may think £
we have to offer, in offering it we may ■
find it means a great deal to others, t
B. K. I
Following are this month's ten-dollar K
tetters :
WHAT COLOR IS HUMANITY?
Dear Papa David:
One night, a few years ago, my sister
and I walked down to the corner ice
cream parlor for a malt. All was not
right with our worlds, since both our,
husbands were off fighting a war. A I
war to free the enslaved peoples ofttiej
world. A war to free the world of hate 1
and racial prejudice. I was thinking oij
this very thing when we noticed a
RADIO MIRROR OFFERS $50 EACH MONTH FOR YOUR LETTERS
Somewhere in everyone's life is hidden a key to happiness. It may be a haH-Jo*
gotten friend, a period of suffering, an unimportant incident, which suddenly illumi-
nated the whole meaning of life. If you are treasuring such a memory, won't yon
write to Papa David about it? For the letter he considers best each month, Radio
Mirror will pay fifty dollars; for each of the others that we have room enough lo
print, ten dollars. No letters can he returned. Address your Life Can Be Beautiful let-
ter to Papa David, Radio Mirror Magazine, 205 East 42 Street, New York 17, New York-
white-haired old colored man a little
way ahead- of us. On either side of him
were two small boys, one about six, the
other about two. As we watched the
grandfather was explaining something
to the older of the two boys and the
little one lagged behind. A few steps
brought us even with him. We parted
a little and he looked up with the most
beautiful smile in the world on his dark
little face. He held up two chubby
brown hands and my sister took one, I
the other. We had walked only a few
steps when the white haired old gentle-
man noticed his small charge was not
beside him, and turned to see where he
was. When he saw the little fellow's
hands in ours, he stopped and called to
him sharply. The little boy looked
abashed. He didn't know what he had
done that was wrong, but he ran on
ahead. The old negro scolded him un-
mercifully, then looked at us apolo-
getically before he walked on.
The old man, in his wisdom and the
experience of many years, knew that
that little boy — because of his skin be-
ing dark would suffer many hurts and
indignities from such as us. If he could
teach him now to avoid white men, he
could save him at least a part of the
hurts- later. He was trying to prepare
him for what he would meet in just a
few short years. We didn't need to be
told what was in the old man's heart —
we could read it in his eyes. He did not
distrust the kindness we had shown,
but he knew the little fellow wouldn't
meet much of it, and it would be easier
if he learned not to expect it.
I have a son now — three years old.
Like all mothers, I day dream about
what he'll be when he grows up. A
doctor? A lawyer? President, maybe?
And I often think of that other little
boy. Yes, he can be a doctor or a law-
yer— if he's exceptionally brilliant and
has an unusual amount of courage and
determination. If he's an ordinary little
boy, or if he's a little bit shy, about the
best he can do is hope to be a porter,
cook, bellhop, or some other servile job.
My son can be almost anything he wants
to be or has the ability to be, even
though he is an average little boy and
even if he grows up to be an average
man, for this is America.
The little negro's dad may have been
fighting for (Continued on page 19)
Ufe Can Be Beautiful, written by Carl Bixby
and Don Becker, is beard Monday througb
Friday on NBC stations at 12 noon, PDT;
1 P.M. MDT; 2 P.M. CDT; 3 P.M. EOT.
... fM % o'QArA *\a\"M %oiw.v^a\
/. "Here's how I manage desk-to-dining
dates," says this smart career girl. "I wear
a simple black linen dress to the office, with
the smartest of tailored jackets. And, of
course, rely on new Odorono cream to keep
my clothes free from perspiration stains
and odor." One dah of Odorono in the A.M.
keeps you dainty a full 24 hours.
And wait till you see how creamy-smooth
Odoronostays in the jar. Never gritty (even
if you leave the cap off for weeks).
2. "When date time comes, I remove
the jacket, add beads and crisp white
petticoat, flowers and gloves— and I'm
set for a romantic evening. I'm confident
of my charm all evening too, thanks to
new Odorono cream." iinuu.se the Hal gene
in Odorono gives wore effective protection
than any deodorant knoU/n.
Yet stainless Odorono is so sale and
gentle— you can use it even after shaving.
Try Odorono yourself— and see.
^rJoU toea^wft©** &Ar>A oAeft'
Sally Adamson, Announcer W. H. Mason and Raymond
Hodkinson on BBC's exchange news review program.
Don Reihl, Editor Swift and Lee Corey on KDKA's
Saturday morning review, Youth Looks at the News.
PITTSMM
n
ewSwian
Jack Swift is Chief News
Editor for Station KDKA.
18
WHEN Jack Swift, editor-in-chief of KDKA's news
department, discarded his childhood ambition to
become a brain surgeon and entered the radio
broadcasting field, he had no idea that his action would
take him back to Pittsburgh where he spent his boyhood.
After finishing his high school work, and one year at
the University of Pittsburgh in the Steel City, his family
moved to Florida and he thought he had left Pittsburgh
forever.
It was while he was a student at the University of
Florida, where he spent four years, that he got into
radio. Swift, working his way through school as a
waiter in the university dining room, jokingly asked a
friend, associated with WRUF, the school and state
broadcasting station:
"When are you going to arrange that audition?"
He got the audition and went to work as an announcer
the next day. He's been at it ever since.
Swift completed his college work in 1939 and joined
the staff of WSUN in St. Petersburg, Fla. He quit WSUN
to take the juvenile lead in a stock company, which he
left to go to Los Angeles where he freelanced in radio
for various advertising agencies.
He returned to St. Petersburg to become chief an-
nouncer at WTSP where he remained for two years
when he resigned to join the staff at WSB, Atlanta (Ga.)
Journal station.
Swift came to KDKA as a newscaster in 1944. He
became chief editor last year.
During the war, Swift spent two years in the Navy.
Highlight of his Navy days came when he interviewed
"Ike" Eisenhower and broadcast his victorious home-
coming at Abilene, Kansas.
Six-feet-one-and-a-half inches tall and weighing 187
pounds, Swift is interested in athletics of all kinds, but
he has chosen golf as his favorite sport.
Although he has been an announcer, program man-
ager, commercial manager and special eventer during
his years in radio, Swift is best known to KDKA
listeners as a newsman. He was chosen as the mikeman
for the special broadcasts carried on all the Pittsburgh
stations during the power strike which crippled the
city, and he has been heard many times on the NBC
World News program.
In addition to his work in the newsroom, Swift has
the 7:00 A.M., 8:00 A.M. and 12 o'clock noon newscasts,
and a special teen-age news feature every Saturday
morning at 9:15, Youth Looks at the News.
The Youth Looks at the News program takes part once
a month, in an exchange program with a broadcast
which originates in Manchester, England, on BBC. Swift,
as editor of the program, discusses the week's news with
two teen-agers.
Swift married Winifred Wagner of St. Petersburg soon
after finishing school. They have three children, Susan
Erin Swift. 6; Jack, Jr., 4; Robert Morrision Swift, 1.
LIFE CAN BE BEAUTIFUL
(.Continued from page 17)
humanity the same as millions of others.
Nobody told him it would be for hu-
manity of only one color.
How can life be beautiful for the
negro — the average negro? Can't we
see it's up to us to make it so?
A. E. B.
A GREAT LAW
Dear Papa David:
There is a business man in Seattle,
Washington, who exemplifies a great
spiritual law in his daily living. The
curious fact is that he does so uncon-
sciously. He is not a religious person
and his education ended at the ninth
grade. He hitch-hiked and rode a bi-
cycle from the middle west to Seattle
and got small jobs there. Now he has
his own factory which furnishes an im-
plement of his designing all over the
world.
When earnings began to accumulate
he grew troubled. He remembered his
early poverty and thought gratefully of
those who had befriended him. He
wanted to do something about it. His
first step was to build a guesthouse on
his property overlooking one of Seat-
tle's lakes. It was completely furnished
and the pantry was stocked. Invitations
were sent to former friends, with trans-
portation enclosed, to use this guest-
house for a month.
The man who delivered his laundry
had a hare-lip which disfigured him
shockingly. "Son," he said one day,
"would you like to get that little thing
fixed up?" The man cringed and mut-
tered that he could not afford the ex-
pensive operation and lost time. My
friend put him in a fine hospital with the
best plastic surgeon available and saw
him triumphantly through. Another
time it was a returned veteran hope-
lessly crippled. He was installed with
his young wife in the guest-cottage
while a special car was built that he
could operate and a small business set
up for him. These are but two of many
such instances.
Still the money piled up, for every
time he spent a large sum on some hu-
man sufferer, his business increased its
earnings.
I first knew him when he had two
sons, married and sharing in the admin-
istration of the factory's business and
profits. He had been widowed for years
but had recently married an attractive
woman. She told me this story: When
they were married he told her that she
would never be a rich woman through
his death, and that she would be amply
provided for always, but need expect
no big diamonds and expensive fur
coats while he could still find somebody
who needed that money more; that he
would not leave an estate for his family
to quarrel over but give all that he had
to certain carefully-inspected charities,
such as the hospital for crippled chil-
dren.
Life, which had once been so sordid
and ugly, became very beautiful for
this man because he stumbled on a
great law: we only own that which we
share, and in sharing we are invariably
blessed — spiritually and materially.
N. B. M.
(to^t/IW smile wins
recruits for a proud profession !
Mary Louise Shine, R. N., didn't know she was
qualifying as a photographer's model when she
graduated from the Georgetown University
School of Nursing. But remembering her cheer-
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her selection as a Model Nurse. Her picture is
appearing everywhere ... in advertisements and
on billboards . . . inspiring young Americans to
join the proud nursing profession. Now a Chi-
cago doctor's bride, Mary Louise says the tooth
paste she buys for her honeymoon apartment is
the same brand she used at home — Pepsodent.
Yes, her winning smile is a Pepsodent Smile !
The smile that wins
is the Pepsodent Smile !
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compared delicious New Pepsodent with the
tooth paste they were using at home. By an
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tastes better, makes breath cleaner and leeth
brighter than any other tooth paste they
tried. For the safety of your smile use Pepsodent
twice a day — see your dentist twice a year !
19
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Name
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^FORMATION
Step up and ask your questions — we'll try to find the answers
FOR YOUR INFORMATION— If there's something you want to know about
radio, write to Information Booth, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42nd St., N. Y.
We'll answer if we can either in Information Booth or by mail — but be
sure to sign full name and address, and attach this box to your letter.
IT'S HOLLY-
WOOD
Dear Editor:
Kindly settle a dis-
agreement between
my friend and my-
self. I say that
Woman in White
and Today's Chil-
dren are broadcast
from the West Coast,
as I have heard some SARA J ANE WELLS
of the actors on Lux Theater. My friend
tells me it is Chicago.
Miss M. S.
Philadelphia, Pa.
You're right! These two serials do orig-
inate in Hollywood. And here's Sarajane
Wells (Eileen Holmes) of Woman in White.
STORY TELLER
Dear Editor:
Can you give me
any information
about Nelson Olm-
sted? I have found
his short stories
more interesting
than any other pro-
gram on the air.
Mrs. M. K.
Burlington, N. C.
NELSON OLMSTED
NBC's Nelson Olmsted (Sun. 2:00 P.M.
EDT), although born in Minneapolis, spent
most of his youth in Texas. He became
interested in acting while attending the
University of Texas where he received his
Bachelor of Science degree. He broke into
radio via a local Austin, Texas, station.
ON BROADWAY
Dear Editor:
Could you give me
some information
about the Goldbergs ?
They have been off
radio for nearly two
years. I would love
to hear that lovable
program again.
Miss M. H.
New York, N. Y.
GERTRUDE BERG
It looks as though it'll be quite some
time before you hear the Goldbergs on the
air again as they recently opened a play
based on the serial on Broadway — and it
was a hit! They're playing at the Belasco
theatre under the title "Me and Molly."
Among the former "nobodys" who learned
acting in The Goldbergs and then went on
to fame are John Garfield, Minerva Pious,
and Selena Royle. Gertrude Berg, the orig-
inator of the serial, plays the role of Molly
ul the Belasco.
LARRY HAINES
ONCE A MUG
Dear Editor:
One of my fa-
vorite programs is
Rosemary. I have
been listening to it
since the beginning.
Can you tell me
something about
Larry Haines the
actor who takes the
part of Lefty Hig-
gins.
Miss I. M. K.
New Haven, Conn.
Larry Haines, born and educated in
Mount Vernon, N. Y., got his start in radio
playing hard-boiled heavies. Realizing that
he was becoming type-cast as a mug, he
cut down the percentage to the point where
such characterizations comprise only about
half his work.
OFF THE AIR
Dear Editor:
In February, a
new program was
introduced on the
air, called Twelve
Players. However,
lately, I haven't been
able to find it any-
where on the dial,
and my family is
disappointed. It was
the most interesting
program I've ever
heard (speaking truthfully) and we've
waited patiently for another of its unusual
plays. Won't we ever hear it again?
Mrs. A. D.
Perth Amboy, N. J.
This show which was heard Mondays on
ABC was last broadcast on March 29th.
Twelve Players was a stock company com-
posed of a dozen of Hollywood's best radio
actors, and one of them was Lurene Tattle.
FORMER
BREAKFAST
CLUBBER
Dear Editor:
I would appreci-
ate any information
you may be able to
give me as to the
whereabouts and ac-
tivities of Nancy
Martin, formerly of
the Breakfast Club.
Mrs. L. H. Jones
Arlington, Mass.
Nancy (she is now Mrs. Sam McEl-
downey), is in Hollywood where she fre-
quently appears in television and where
she is also engaged in voice dubbing at
the picture studios. Nancy first sang on
LURENE TUTTLE
NANCY MARTIN
OOTH
VICKI VOLA
the Breakfast Club in 1939. replacing
Annette King.
HANK
Dear Editor:
Would you please
give me some infor-
mation about Hank
on One Man's
Family?
_ Miss G. J. $
Sedalia, Colorado
Seventeen-year-old «_,
Conrad Binyon (he
plays Hank) who CONRAD BINYON
was born in Holly-
wood, joined the Family in April of 1939.
And is the only member of the cast lacking
a colorful theatrical background. (But he
seems to be doing all right. ) Conrad's
greatest ambition is someday to write and
produce a program like One Mans Family.
MR. D. A.'s
SECRETARY
Dear Editor:
For some time I
have been a regular
listener of Mr. Dis-
trict Attorney and
have become greatly
interested in Vicki
Vola who portrays
the D. A.'s secretary
Edith Miller. Re-
cently, I discovered that she is also Stacy
McGill on the Christopher belles program.
What does she look like?
Miss R. R.
Toledo 10, Ohio
As you can see. Vicki Vola still manages
to look pretty despite the terrific pushing
around she gets on these two programs.
Although she resembles Luise Rainer, Vicki
is far from Viennese — her ancestry is Span-
ish and French.
THEME SONGS
Dear Editor:
I listen to the
radio every day, and
I would like to have
some information on
some theme songs.
Could you tell me
what theme songs
are used on The
Romance of Helen
Trent, Life Can Be
Beautiful, When a Girl Marries, and Joyce
Jordan, M. D.? Would like to see Les
Tremavne of Jovce Jordan.
Miss A. S.
New York, N. Y.
The tender "Juanita" sets the mood for
The Romance of Helen Trent, and When
a Girl Marries is introduced by the "Sere-
nade" by Drigo. We weren't, able to help
you on the theme for Life Can Be Beauti-
ful as it is an original piece and, so far,
is untitled. "Poem" is the theme for Joyce
Jordan, and here's Les Tremavne who plays
the part of Dawson Blakelv.
L.ES TREMAYXE
Eleanor sat on the beach
looking like this . . .
Jane looked slick
~_ 'i,J»*|Si£^*fe*-
Eleanor was a rag at the party . . .
Jane was smooth
Mowlmd
It was the U.S.
*f HAIR DRY SWIM CAP
that made the difference
Jane found out by checking on the U. S. Howland what a lot of
time and money it could save her. No hot, perspiry hours in
summer for Jane under the drier. She protected her hair with the
swim cap that keeps hair dry. Jane had good reasons for buying
it. You do, too.
1. Band of suction cups inside cap shuts
water out.
2. Deep fit pulls cap closer to head.
3. Patented V-shaped reinforcing ribs that
turn suction cups inward to make a per-
fect seal, protect ears and eliminate
damp hair near ears.
4. Not just one size but three sizes— small,
medium and large — makes fit more
accurate.
5. Comes in good sun colors; red, yellow,
blue or white.
At leading stores,
throughout the country.
A PRODUCT OF
UNITED STATES
RUBBER COMPANY
21
Chuck Thompson and Byrum Saam, the
two WIBG sportscasters who spend most
of their summer afternoons and even-
ings in a booth at Shibe Park, giving
fans the ballgames, play by play.
A DAY WITH
(^kuch ana d5i
v
22
THOSE two up there in the WIBG booth in Shibe Park
in Philadelphia, Byrum Saam and Chuck Thompson,
are a rather busy pair right now, and they've been
mighty busy since the start of the season back in April.
What's more, they'll stay that busy until the last out is
called, come the end of next September. Take an average
day with By and Chuck:
They're up as early as you are, for they have to compile
a complete set of records of yesterday's ball games, and
tie them in with the season's totals to date, so that at a
glance, they can tell you what any and every player in
both the American and National Leagues has done, right
to the moment.
After that, it's a jaunt to the Phillies' office, because the
club is playing out of town today, and they have to get
any inside information that headquarters can divulge
about the club. If it's a cloudy or rainy day, it's a con-
stant check with the A's office to discover whether there's
a game at Shibe Park this afternoon. If that game is
rained out, they go to the WIBG studios in downtown
Philadelphia, where a telegrapher is stationed to bring
a play-by-play wire report of the Phillies' game from
out of town. They do what is termed a reconstruction
game, from his reports, sitting at a desk in a studio, with-
out ever seeing a baseball pitched all afternoon. If the
Phillies should happen to be rained out too, our wire
game would come from some other city where fair
weather permits the playing 0f a game. That's why our
records have to be compiled so perfectly every morning.
If the Cleveland pitcher fanned the Detroit baseman, the
fans want to know if he'd done it before, and how many
times, and when was the last time? That applies in the
case of any batter against any pitcher. Those morning
compilations are the background of every good baseball
broadcast. That's why they're made, and kept so accu-
rately. A sportscaster has an actual record of everything
a player has done on the field at his fingertips, from day
to day, all season long. He carries those records with
him to the WIBG studio, if the game is reconstructed or
to Shibe Park, if he's to broadcast from the left field
radio booth there. When he goes to the park, his first
stop is the home team's office for any information he can
gather there, that would make today's broadcast more
interesting to the fans.
After the visit to the office, they stop into the dressing
rooms of both the home and visiting teams to chat with
the managers and players to acquire additional informa-
tion that might help their broadcast. Then, they are
ready to head for the booth under the roof, and set them-
selves up for the broadcast, arranging records on the
players, line-ups, commercials and information picked up
from visits to the teams. With Saam and Thompson this
is practically automatic. Having worked together through
several seasons, they can practically read each other's
minds, and know when and how to do what, with the least
expenditure of words and action.
When the game starts it means one hundred and fifty
words a minute of ad libbing for approximately two and
a half hours, telling just what is happening down there on
the field, in a manner that keeps the fans keenly interested
every minute of the game, the same fans who say, "Those
baseball broadcasters — what a cinch job they have!"
^adna iAe tyMu^tc
TEX BENEKE
RUMOR has it that one of the reasons
the three branches of our military
service were combined under one
Secretary was a young man named
Gordon Lee Beneke. For Tex, of the
United States Navy, was the man
selected to. lead the late Major Glenn
Miller's Army Air Force Band.
It wasn't fate that put Tex in front
of Glenn's post-war band. Mrs. Glenn
Miller and manager Don Haynes also
knew that Glenn would have wanted
Tex to lead the band.
Major Miller started on a flight from
England to France one morning in De-
cember, 1944. He never reached his
destination. But Tex Beneke agreed to
lead the band only after arranging
that it would be billed as "The Glenn
Miller Orchestra." That's how the
band premiered at New York's Capitol
Theater in January of 1946.
Recently, however, Mrs. Miller, Don
and Tex agreed that it would be best
to change over and call the band Tex
Beneke and his Orchestra. Mrs. Miller,
you see, is still a partner in the or-
ganization. Fact is, Glenn is still with
the band. Trombonist Jerry Priddy, to
whom Glenn had handed his own trom-
bone, has never failed to carry Glenn's
horn with the band's equipment. The
size and instrumentation of the band
are in agreement with what Glenn had
told Don he wanted for his post-war
aggregation. Even chief arranger
Norm Leyden was first discovered by
Glenn while in the Army.
More than all this, the band has
carried on in the tradition of being
the miracle band of the nation. Glenn
always had a group that was finan-
cially on top. And now, when many
orchestras are finding it difficult to
keep going in the face of rising costs
and fewer jobs, the Tex Beneke unit
is traveling with thirty-one musicians
and breaking records from coast to
coast. No small reason, of course, is
the series of hit discs the band has
been turning out for RCA Victor. Add
to that national radio programs such as
the Army Air Force show on Mutual.
Most amazing of all, perhaps, is that
although Glenn Miller last toured the
country with his own band in 1940, the
most requested tunes even now are the
old Miller records such as "Kala-
mazoo," "In The Mood," "Little Brown
Jug," "Chattanooga Choo Choo" and
"Ida."
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23
ALL KINDS of
Clint Buehlman, more than a
disc jockey — an institution!
Clint, his wife, Marcia,
and son Mark pose while
young Marcia sketches.
R
M
24
CLINT BUEHLMAN is more than a disc jockey— he's
an institution, but he'd be the last to admit it and the
first to make a crack about that word "institution."
But a fellow can't be on the air for practically three
hours a day, six days a week for something like fifteen
years without becoming a daily habit. Besides, his
"Hooper" consistently indicates his shows pull more
listeners than all the opposition combined — and that's
something.
In fact, you rarely hear the Buehlman name men-
tioned on his show. It's generally, "This Is Yours Truly
Buehly," and that's all.
Buehly is a native of Buffalo and attended schools in
both Buffalo and Rochester, graduating from John Mar-
shall High in Rochester. He is now celebrating his silver
anniversary in radio, but he's not the greybeard you
might think. He first broke into radio in a small way in
Buffalo back in 1923 as a child actor. "Yes — I was one
of those brats— don't you hate 'em?" he says.
Clint is a proficient pianist but confines his playing
to his own living room. His one great hobby is fishing
and, believe it or not, he always manages his schedule
so as to take off a few days periodically to fish with his
78-year-old grandmother. He used to visit her fre-
quently when she lived down state in Pennsylvania, but
now that is unnecessary — Grandmother lives with Clint.
So does one of his favorite people— his mother-in-law.
Mr. and Mrs. Buehlman live in a Buffalo suburb, and
have a daughter, Marcia, six years old, and a son, Mark,
who is one and one-half.
Buehly has won widespread praise from parents,
pupils, teachers and the general public for his auditions
for junior m.c.s. For twenty weeks this Winter and
Spring he conducted a contest at a specified high school
to determine the most promising radio personality in
each of the four classes — freshman, sophomore, junior,
senior. Every Saturday morning he auditioned the four
top vote-getters and selected a boy to be his assistant for
one week. Each week's winner received a $50 bond and
$10 for expenses — to cover cabfare and the like — and an
invaluable boost in his ambitions.
At Christmas time 1946 an association organized to aid
underprivileged children in rural schools asked him to
broadcast an appeal for "used" greeting cards. Any kind
were wanted — to teach children color and to provide
bookmarks, scrapbooks and the like. Clint made six
simple, brief announcements. Then the postoffice called
for help. Some 96 mailbags — more than three tons —
with something like an estimated 1,500,000 cards de-
scended on WBEN from New York State, Pennsylvania
and Ontario. It was necessary to get a special freight car
to transport the cards to the society's headquarters in
New York City. The company decided to call a halt then
and there. Later it was learned that Buffalo and Buehl-
man contributed more cards than the rest of the entire
country solicited!
WHAT'S NEW from
COAST to COAST
(Continued from page 15)
At this writing, NBC is hoping and
planning to have Fred Allen broadcast
over television as well as radio, but the
comic is balking, because he'd have to
please three separate audiences — radio
studio and video.
* * *
William Bendix, who's playing the
role of the wonderful and forever re-
markable King of Swat, in the forth-
coming movie on the life of Babe Ruth
is being flooded with letters giving him
advice on how to play the part. Inci-
dentally, another radio performer has
also been signed for that picture. Bobby
Ellis, who plays Alexander on the
"Blondie" show, will portray Babo
Ruth as a boy.
* * *
More and more like home! San Quen-
tin prison now has its own disc jockey.
The prison has a big record library and
music is carried through an intercell
hook-up.
* * *
Dix Davis, who plays Randolph Fos-
ter on the Date With Judy show, has
sadly turned down a summer stock bid.
He'll be graduated from the University
of Southern California this June and
is going to get to work on winning his
master's degree with some courses dur-
ing the summer session. He's majoring
in foreign trade, which sounds like a
forward looking idea.
* * *
There's some talk going around that
radio will be handing out its own
Academy Awards in the near future for
outstanding work on the airlanes. But
the Superman outfit isn't waiting
around for that to happen. For consist-
ently outstanding performances on this
series, members of the cast are getting
a Superman Oscar, which consists of a
tiny silver figure of Superman, to be
worn on a bracelet or watch chain.
We're kind of sorry that Child's
World has been shifted from the Sun-
day evening spot to one on Thursdays
at 10 P.M. We think this unrehearsed
program is one of the best on the air to-
day. Anyone with any children should
listen, because the show gives you a
chance to find out many things about
your own children, from the mouths of
other children, which you'd never be
able to dig out in a million years with-
out the help of a competent, under-
standing educator and psychologist like
Helen Parkhurst, who runs the doings.
* * *
Well, Morton Downey's won his point.
He's switched to NBC, now, and he'd
have been there a long time ago, if it
hadn't taken him so long to convince
the bigwigs that his late time spot was
the very best spot for him to be in.
Downey thinks it's such a good time be-
cause he feels that after listeners have
been beaten on the ears for hours by
the world news — none of which is so
lovely and charming these days —
they're generally nervous. And that's
not a state conducive to slumber.
Downey plans his programs very care-
fully, so that they'll soothe his listeners
for those fifteen minutes between 11: 15
and 11:30.
* * *
There are two Billy Roses in radio.
One of them, of course, is the versatile
one who indulges in Pitching Horse-
shoes on his own show of that name.
The other is a very busy and well
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26
© 1-J4H L«dy Either
known Chicago radio actor — and no re-
lation to the New York fellow — who's
working currently on the Tom Mix
stanza, portraying Tommy, the Chinese
boy.
* * *
Bill Lawrence, who directs the
Screen Guild Players shows, has a tip
for young aspirants to radio careers.
His advice is for youngsters to stop try-
ing to build themselves up as character
actors with half a dozen dialects in their
voice boxes. Lawrence says that the
character field is very tough to crack
because competition is very stiff, but
every radio producer is constantly
looking for fresh, new voices for
straight acting parts. Actually, reading
straight lines and making them con-
vincing and dramatically effective is a
pretty tough job.
* ■ * *
Bret Morrison of Song of the Stranger
and The Shadow has been signed to star
in a series of six movies to be made in
New York. Versatile Bret will play the
role of a killer in the psychological
thriller series.
* * *
You probably know that on the Case
Book of Gregory Hood, they sometimes
use real characters to give the show the
proper touch of realism. Once in a
while, the actual person — say J. Edgar
Hoover, or a Senator, or a band leader,
appears as a guest and plays "himself
in the script. Usually, an actor will do
an imitation of the real person. For
this, the program has to get what's
called a release from the individual to
be portrayed. That's normal enough.
But what strikes us a little bit funny is
that when the script mentions a place,
let's say the Wardman Park Hotel in
Washington, or the Racquet Club in
Palm Springs, the producers have to get
releases from the places mentioned!
* ■ * *
Eastern agency representatives in
Hollywood to buy summer replacement
shows reveal that their top budget
figure is $5000 — or about 50% below the
price paid for "dog days" shows during
the past two years. From the looks of
things, 1948 will be the lightest com-
mercial summer on the networks since
1940.
Pat O'Brien and Virginia Bruce will
co-star in the summer dramatic series
replacing Jimmy Durante this summer.
Writing and direction will be in charge
of True Boardman.
GOSSIP AND STUFF FROM HITHER
AND YON . . . Wired music, with spon-
sored commercials, goes into stores
soon . . . Mutual's Mysterious Traveler
is coming out in comic book form with
a possibility of a daily cartoon strip in
the offing . . . Hurray, hurray, sponsors
have renewed contracts for Queen
For a Day and Heart's Desire. Now
you can relax . . . Ilene Woods is do-
ing the speaking and singing voice
for Walt Disney's "Cinderella," feature
length cartoon . . . Radio Comic Herb
Shriner is working in his first Broad-
way musical, "Inside U.S.A." . . . Jack
Smith has shifted from New York to
Hollywood and will do most of his sum-
mer broadcasts from there . . . An-
nouncer Ken Niles has named his sea-
going cruiser after one of his shows,
The Life of Riley . . . Don McLaughlin
of David Harding, Counterspy, is star-
ring in the Broadway play, "Happy
Journey" ... A series starring husky-
voiced Tallulah Bankhead is being
readied for fall airing . . . CBS offered
Milton Berle an executive post in tele-
vision, but the comic turned it down.
Teen-age Barbara is CBS's new Junior
Miss (Saturdays at 11:30 A.M. EDT).
Barbara 1/1/ hi tin
9
WELL, that sidesplitting Junior Miss
of stage and screen is all set for a
long, long run on the radio. You
hear it these days on CBS, Saturdays at
11:30 A.M. EDT, with Barbara Whiting.
The late Dick Whiting left more to
posterity than a whole list of song hits,
among them "Till We Meet Again," "Be-
yond The Blue Horizon," "My Ideal,"
and "Sleepy Time Gal." The success of
his two talented, lovely daughters bids
fair to outlive the popularity of any
song. Margaret Whiting has already
made her mark as a singer. Now, it
looks as though her little sister Bar-
bara is likely to take over a special
comedy "Great" spot and make it all
her own.
Barbara was born in Hollywood, Cal-
ifornia, almost exactly sixteen years
ago. Last January she was graduated
from University High School. All of
which makes her being cast in the title
role of Junior Miss pretty much a job
of type casting. Besides, the whole pat-
tern of the show is more or less familiar
to her, since she played the part of
Fuffy Adams in the screen version of
Sally Benson's play. While still at high
school, she also played in the film,
"Home Sweet Homicide."
Until quite recently, it was a ques-
tion in the Whiting household just what
Barbara would do for a career. She is
very talented. She plays the piano well
and is also a pretty good song stylist.
In fact, she was the first to sijig "Pass
That Peace Pipe," performing for
friends at a party. Later, her sister,
Maggie, was signed to make a recording
of that song. Barbara, still listing her
talents, also writes a bit.
Barbara isn't entirely new to the
radio listener. She played Mildred in
the Meet Corliss Archer series. In a
way, her experience on that show about
adolescent girls can be considered a
part of her training for her new role.
And, although she looks just right and
. is about the right age for the role of
Junior Miss, let no one think that the
type casting goes all the way. Barbara
is a girl with a bit of a head on her
shoulders and she'll probably not wind
up the eternal sub-ingenue on the air.
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Just listening to radio
didn't earn Bill this title. That was
merely the way it all began
NUMBER ONE FAN
WEBSTER defines a fan as "an enthusiastic devotee
of a particular diversion." Take that definition,
multiply it by a couple, of thousand, and you've
got Bill Geringer, radio's show-goer extraordinary.
Slight nineteen-year-old Bill is the little man who's
practically always there in the studio audience, smit-
ing his palms or giving with the laughs that issue from
loudspeakers coast to coast. During the past four
years — since he was fifteen — young Bill has person-
ally attended some six to seven thousand radio shows,
averaging four a night on weekdays and seven or eight
on Saturdays and Sundays. Week in, week out, morn-
ing, noon (he frequently skips lunch) and night, Bill
haunts the studios, major networks or independents,
taking in audience shows. Going to radio shows is
Bill's hobby and he is an absolute fanatic about it.
Here's the way Bill feels about it, as he explained
to his parents way back when they first showed con-
cern over his devotion to radio:
"It's a hobby. Like collecting stamps or match-covers
or autographs."
"Yes," his father agreed, "but what have you got to
show for all the time you put in at it?"
"What," countered Bill, with all due respect toward
his father, "have you got to show for all the movies
and plays you saw and books, magazines and news-
papers you read?"
When his dad pointed out that these things either
entertained for the moment or improved the mind, Bill
just grinned meaningfully at his parents; they saw that
he had something there and let him keep at it without
another word of reproof, save that he keep up with
his work and get home at a reasonable hour. Home is
a small brownstone apartment on West End Avenue,
in New York City.
It all began one summer's day four years ago. It
was a broiling hot day and Bill was idling through
Radio City with little money in his pockets and much
time on his. hands. He noticed a long line of people fil-
ing through an entrance to the NBC studios in the
RCA building. He got on line, too, and soon was seated
comfortably in an air-cooled studio, awaiting he knew
not what.
As luck would have it, the program was Here's Babe
Ruth, a sustaining show featuring stories about the
Sultan of Swat on WEAF (now WNBC). It was just
the kind of program that would entrance an impres-
sionable fifteen-year-old, who, if the truth be known,
wouldn't have minded being in the bleachers at the
Yankee Stadium, at the time.
"How long has this been going on?" Bill asked him-
self as he settled back in his chair and gratefully
sniffed the purified atmosphere provided by NBC. At
any rate, after the broadcast, he made inquiries and
learned that there were many other free audience
shows that afternoon. Bill took them all in and it
wasn't until dusk had cast long, cool shadows across
Manhattan's simmering sidewalks that Bill quit the
building and headed for home.
The next morning, bright and early, Bill was back
at the studios, perfectly willing for NBC to wile away
another tedious summer's day for him. From 9: 00 A.M.
to 9:00 P.M. Bill remained cloistered in the cool and
colorful confines of Radio City. He had discovered a
new and fascinating world and he just had no desire
to venture out into the real but none too inviting one
outside. He took in seven or eight programs in all
that day. He doesn't recall whether he even remem-
bered to take time out for lunch.
The rest of that long summer vacation was more of
the same thing. After a few weeks of it, however, Bill
began to learn the ropes and to exercise discrimination
in the shows he chose to see. He pestered ushers and
receptionists at the various studios with a flock of
questions. After a while the studio employees and
even a few performers came (Continued on page 98)
29
EVERY woman who starts her day by listening
to Don McNeill on the American Broadcasting
Company's Breakfast Club must, at some time
or another, have wondered if his stories about Kay
and the boys weren't just too good to be true.
She must, sometime, have turned to her hus-
band, asking, "Dear, do you suppose it really
happens that way?"
She wouldn't be human if she didn't add, "Don't
the McNeills ever have any problems?"
Answers to the twin questions are easy.
To number one — yes, Don's radio reporting is
accurate. Daily, a goodly portion of McNeill
living is passed on to the radio audience. More, in
fact, than listeners realize.
To the second — sure, the McNeills have prob-
lems. They wouldn't be the vital, interesting
family you hear on the air if they didn't have.
But Don and Kay McNeill also have that quality
our grandparents used to call "character." What
they believe, what they think, what they want,
shapes their lives into a pattern which today is
rarely found in the families of stars.
You need to have traveled the Celebrity Circuit
with big names of stage, screen and radio to
By
HELEN
BOLSTAD
v"j
W
e
ww mi
d vUit
DOM
]m j^mJXu o^ w
m WMJL
—
b iki mmwjim^ maiiib it jioiiul
How to spoil a father: Tommy,
Don Jr., and Bobby wait on him hand
and foot. Not often, though —
usually it's "him what works, eats."
Outside, the McNeill house in Wiimetka
welcomes as expansively as the smiles of Kay and Don.
Inside, there are more reflections of
family character; Kay's "decorator touch" is evident.
Don McNeill and the Breakfast Club are heard
on ABC, Monday through Friday at 9 A. M., EDT
31
»
EVERY woman who starts her day by listening
to Don McNeill on the American Broadcasting
Company's Breakfast Club must, at some time
or another, have wondered if his stories about Kay
and the boys weren't just too good to be true.
She must, sometime, have turned to her hus-
band, asking, "Dear, do you suppose it really
happens that way?"
She wouldn't be human if she didn't add, "Don't
the McNeills ever have any problems?"
Answers to the twin questions are easy.
To number one — yes, Don's radio reporting is
accurate. Daily, a goodly portion of McNeill
living is passed on to the radio audience. More, in
fact, than listeners realize.
To the second — sure, the McNeills have prob-
lems. They wouldn't be the vital, interesting
family you hear on the air if they didn't have.
But Don and Kay McNeill also have that quality
our grandparents used to call "character." What
they believe, what they think, what they want,
shapes their lives into a pattern which today is
rarely found in the families of stars.
You need to have traveled the Celebrity Circuit
with big names of stage, screen and radio to
By
HELEN
BOLSTAD
How to spoil a Father: Tommy,
Don Jr.. and Bobby wait on him bund
-ind foot. Not often, though —
usually it's "him what works, eats."
Jfe ijziumtL ojj~uW Wifcfc m jjiwniu| "tfidt moSm it Pioiiii
v i
Outside, the McNeill house in Winnelka
welcomes as expansively as the smiles of Kay and Don,
Inside, there are more reflection* of
family character; Kay's "decorator touch" in evident.
Don McNeill -ad the Breakfait Club arc heard
on ABC, MoDefcV through Friday at 'I A. M., EDT
I ><
Kjm\L cundL visit
The limestone house is big; it had to be, for it's
usually as full of friends as it is of family.
Icebox-raiding time gives the McNeill men a chance to
kill two birds: they eat and they talk about life.
In the birch-paneled den, a gin rummy game
understand just how rare it is.
You need to know how easily, when
fans clamor around, you can puff up
your ego like a circus balloon.
You need to feel the weariness that
comes from everlasting demands on
your time — demands that can wring
you dry by the end of the day, with no
energy left to take a normal, human
interest in your family and friends,
demands that leave you but a single
desire — to sleep.
YOU need to share the tragedy of some
of the show business divorces by
knowing, over the years, a few of the
nice young couples who battled to-
gether for success, but when it came,
split apart because they couldn't save
time for a private life.
To complete the picture, you should
know some of the celebrities' children.
It's toughest on them. Some turn out
awful brats who have learned to get
their share of attention by misbehaving.
Then there's the opposite kind — the
frustrated, silent, sulky little ones. Both
kinds discover early that when either
mummy or daddy remains a spoiled
child and never bothers to grow up, the
youngsters get only a taste of childhood.
That probably furnishes the most im-
32
is kibitzed by the boys and spaniel Flag.
Don Sr. and Jr. have a hands-off agreement with Kay
about the bay-window greenhouse she prizes so highly.
portant clue to what makes the Mc-
Neills tick.
Both Don and Kay are adults. Men-
tally and emotionally, they have grown
up. They enjoy being parents. They
don't compete with their kids for a
chance to be children.
You in the radio audience sense that
just as keenly as their boys do.
In the 100,000 letters and cards you
write Don McNeill each year, you con-
fide your problems and share your joys.
Few of you send mash notes. Instead,
you realize he is a good friend who
has lived enough to understand your
worries and to appreciate the wonder-
ful little things that happen in your own
families. You're pleased when he, in
turn, passes them on to the whole big
Breakfast Club audience, all over the
country.
His sons have the same attitude. If
an Academy of Family Arts and
Sciences existed to award "Oscars" to
successful fathers, Don McNeill would
be a sure winner.
Most vital factor in that success is
Don's way of letting his boys know
they are important to him.
If you traveled over the winding, se-
cluded roads of Winnetka, thirty miles
north of ABC's {Continued on page 91)
At the breakfast table Don gets his briefing from the
boys, who are always full of Breakfast Club ideas.
L!
(jMUL (LH(L VlAit
don Hdsiiu
JIT >
|feMi,4>l hiSr Ami
IbW~\ fll
^^^^iiB*«a*i-i
The limestone house is big; il had to be, (or it'-
ii.nnHv ni foil of friends n* h i* of family.
"« "m< '""'• «-" *'*».ill men . chance to
kill two birds: tl„.v Ml and ««, u]k noolll ,if,.
In the birch-paneled den, a gin
understand just how rare it is.
You need to know how easily, when
fans clamor around, you can puff up
your ego like a circus balloon.
You need to feel the weariness that
comes from everlasting demands on
your time — demands that can wring
you dry by the end of the day, with no
energy left to take a normal, human
interest in your family and friends,
demands that leave you but a single
desire — to sleep.
YOU need to share the tragedy of some
of the show business divorces by
knowing, over the years, a few of the
nice young couples who battled to-
gether for success, but when it came,
split apart because they couldn't save
time for a private life.
To complete the picture, you should
know some of the celebrities' children.
It's toughest on them. Some turn out •
awful brats who have learned to get
their share of attention by misbehaving.
Then there's the opposite kind — the
frustrated, silent, sulky little ones. Both
kinds discover early that when either
mummy or daddy remains a spoiled
child and never bothers to grow up, the
youngsters get only a taste of childhood.
That probably furnishes the most im-
ts kibitzed by the boys and spaniel Flag.
portant clue to what makes the Mc-
Neills tick.
Both Don and Kay are adults. Men-
tally and emotionally, they have grown
up. They enjoy being parents. They
don't compete with their kids for a
chance to be children.
You in the radio audience sense that
just as keenly as their boys do.
In the 100,000 letters and cards you
write Don McNeill each year, you con-
fide your problems and share your joys.
Few of you send mash notes. Instead,
you realize he is a good friend who
has lived enough to understand your
worries and to appreciate the wonder-
ful little things that happen in your own
families. You're pleased when he, in
turn, passes them on to the whole big
Breakfast Club audience, all over the
country.
His sons have the same attitude. If
an Academy of Family Arts and
Sciences existed to award "Oscars" to
successful fathers, Don McNeill would
be a sure winner.
Most vital factor in that success is
Don's way of letting his boys know
they are important to him.
If you traveled over the winding, se-
cluded roads of Winnetka, thirty miles
north of ABC's (Continued on page 91)
Don Sr. and Jr. have a hands-on* agreement with Kay
about the bay. window gr ilion,,- she |iriics so highly.
■
.._
■f
•
'
1 ll
I
y
■
1
| 1 J|j
■
j| 1 Mm
~~ JE-» .-f
""5
9^A
atsH ssTsTs
1 laafefli m isfjjfl
Ll si^Blllalalalalalaa # ^VWistss^fl 1 )tt
At the breakfa-H table Don geU hi- briefing from the
boyti, who are alway full of Hreakfanl Club ideas.
J
33
W&^
Eric Scvarcid, CBS
/
^tatiw^
conventions, described bv these radio newsmen
Morgan Bcatty, NBC
Bol, Trout. NBC
Albert Warner. MBS
William L. Shirer, MBS
Turn past for more convention pictures
*»
^*Wlrfp\
conventions, described by these radio newsmen
Morgan Realty. Mid
William L. Sliircr. MBS
Turn pun* for man eonrention picture*
Gabriel Heatter, MBS
!
H. R. Baukhage, ABC
136
Henry J. Taylor, MBS
THIS year millions of Americans will have ring-
side seats at two of the greatest shows our
democracy affords. In addition to the radio
broadcasts that will make play-by-play news avail-
able to everyone, both the Republican and- Demo-
cratic conventions will be extensively televised.
Whether you are listening at home or watching
one of the screens now installed in so many public
places, it will be well to know how to interpret
what you will see and hear.
There will be color, fun, .excitement and a cer-
tain circus atmosphere, but behind the carnival,
democracy will be soberly at work.
These conventions will chart the path our nation
will take in the next four years, and the delegates
know it. Beneath the froth, fun and fury will be
the serious will of a free people freely choosing
candidates for the presidency.
More later about how to evaluate the side shows
that will be staged either as political expedients
or in the American spirit of fun. First, something
You'll turn a sharper ear to your radio,
read Quincy Howe's behind-the-scenes stories of past conventions
Walter Kiernan, ABC
about what to expect as you listen to the broao
casts from Philadelphia when the Republican con-
vention starts on June 21, and the Democrats get
under way on July 12.
Both conventions will follow the same pat-
tern.
A day or so before, the official opening, party
delegates from all over the country will have
packed the hotels. Some delegates will have
positive instructions. For instance, the New York
Republicans will be committed to back Governor
Dewey against all comers, and the Missouri Demo-
crats will be solidly behind President Truman.
The managers of each candidate will have tried to
get as many advance commitments as possible, but,
since some states will not have announced definite
allegiances, the hotels will see plenty of high pres-
sure campaigning. Of course, the opening days
will be blistering hot. Political conventions and
heat waves seem to go together.
The delegates and their {Continued on page 79)
John MacVane, NBC
37
ID
136
ffinrt^-J&s t^m^&n^
this election year, after you've
^>y^
You'll turn a sharper ear to your radio,
read Quincy Howe's behind-the-scenes stories of past conventions
H. R. Baukhage, ABC
THIS year millions of Americans will have ring-
side seats at two of the greatest shows our
democracy affords. In addition to the radio
broadcasts that will make play-by-play news avail-
able to everyone, both the Republican and- Demo-
cratic conventions will be extensively televised.
Whether you are listening at home or watching
one of the screens now installed in so many public
places, it will be well to know how to interpret
what you will see and hear.
There will be color, fun, .excitement and a cer-
, tain circus atmosphere, but behind the carnival,
democracy will be soberly at work.
These conventions will chart the path our nation
will take in the next four years, and the delegates
know it. Beneath the froth, fun and fury will be
the serious will of a free people freely choosing
candidates for the presidency.
More later about how to evaluate the side shows
that will be staged either as political expedients
or in the American spirit of fun. First, something
Walter Kiernan, ABC
about what to expect as you listen to the broaa
casts from Philadelphia when the Republican con-
vention starts on June 21, and the Democrats get
under way on July 12.
Both conventions will follow the same pat-
tern.
A day or so before, the official opening, party
delegates from all over the country will have
packed the hotels. Some delegates will have
positive instructions. For instance, the New York
Republicans will be committed to back Governor
Dewey against all comers, and the Missouri Demo-
crats will be solidly behind President Truman.
The managers' of each candidate will have tried to
get as many advance commitments as possible, but,
since some states will not have announced definite
allegiances, the hotels will see plenty of high pres-
sure campaigning. Of course, the opening days
will be blistering hot Political conventions and
neat waves seem to go together.
The delegates and their (Continued on page 79)
Quincy Howe, CBS
John MacVane, NBC
By
WILLIAM
TUSHEI!
Behind the dignified entrance to the Cost'ello Youth Foundation, hundreds of kids learn how to have all kinds of
fun — often, as in the checker game, under the expert tutelage of President Lou Costello and Secretary Bud Abhott.
IS Lou Costello on the level?
Is his concern for the welfare of youth a headline -
grabbing sham? Is the Lou Costello Junior Youth
Foundation, created as a monument to his son, a fraud?
Ugly rumors are heard: It's a cheap publicity stunt
. . . It's just an act . . . The radio comedian has been
branded by a newspaper columnist as "a self-advertised
friend of kids."
Since the questions have been raised, they should be
examined, and answered.
If these attacks have any basis in fact, 10,280 enrolled
members of the Foundation have been sold out, and
many of the most august pillars of the Los Angeles
community have been duped in a fabulous swindle. So
let's take a look at the facts:
The Foundation has been in existence for two years.
Is Lou's Foundation run from the
heart ... or for the publicity? The answer
is in the facts, and here they are
In the Foundation's fully-equipped clinic, Nurse Gon-
zales and Dr. Kovner keep everyone in top condition.
Any time Bud and Lou can spare is spent looking
over shoulders in the ever-humming Hobby Shop.
For the smallest people, there's a playground within
the larger playground, a haven for the pint-sized.
From an opening enrollment of 2,000, its membership
has swelled to 10,280 youngsters from the ages of six
to nineteen, with 5,000 additional members anticipated
in the forthcoming few months. There are no dues, and
no conditions of membership.
Two thousand children were taught to swim last
summer at the Foundation's modern swimming pool,
equipped with underwater lights for night use, regula-
tion diving boards, lounge chairs, tables, brilliantly col-
ored umbrellas, and lockers for boys and girls.
Foundation facilities include, in addition, a softball
diamond with bleachers, a 140 by 100 foot skating rink
for which skates are furnished free, basketball courts,
a football gridiron, badminton courts, tennis courts, ping
pong tables, an outdoor barbecue, an arts and crafts
room, clubrooms, workshops, classrooms, a medical clinic
and a dental clinic. Both clinics are fully equipped.
Sand boxes, a wading pool, teeter-totters, a miniature
merry-go-round, slides, a large room for drawing and
games, a children's library, and a record player and
radio are among the features of The Little People's
Department, an enclosed wonderland for tots from six
to eight.
These are available to the public seven days a week,
from 10 A.M. until 10:15 P.M., under the pleasant, un-
obtrusive supervision of a paid staff of college-trained
social and playground workers.
Dentists and doctors are on call free of charge for
needy youngsters. Children suffering malnutrition get
free vitamins. Food is distributed at a foundation snack
bar that boasts a complete soda fountain.
"Costello is worshipped by {Continued on page 74)
39
\bbott and Costello are heard on ABC, Wednesday at 9:00 P.M.. Saturday at 11:00 V.M.. EOT.
6¥Z
Behind the dignified entrance to the Costello Youth Foundation, hundreds of kids learn
fun — often, as in the checker game, under the expert tutelage of President Lou Costello i
to have all kinds of
d Secretary Bud Abbott.
IS Lou Costello on the level?
Is his concern for the welfare of youth a headline-
grabbing sham? Is the Lou Costello Junior Youth
Foundation, created as a monument to his son, a fraud?
Ugly rumors are heard: It's a cheap publicity stunt
. . . It's just an act . . . The radio comedian has been
branded by a newspaper columnist as "a self-advertised
friend of kids."
Since the questions have been raised, they should be
examined, and answered.
If these attacks have any basis in fact, 10,280 enrolled
members of the Foundation have been sold out, and
many of the most august pillars of the Los Angeles
community have been duped in a fabulous swindle. So
let's take a look at the facts:
The Foundation has been in existence for two years.
Is Lou's Foundation run from the
heart ... or for the publicity? The answer
is in the facts, and here they are
In the Foundation's fully-equipped clinic, Nurse Gon-
zales and Dr. Kovner keep everyone in top condition.
From an opening enrollment of 2,000, its membership
has swelled to 10,280 youngsters from the ages of- six
to nineteen, with 5,000 additional members anticipated
in the forthcoming few months. There are no dues, and
no conditions of membership.
Two thousand children were taught to swim last
summer at the Foundation's modern swimming pool,
equipped with underwater lights for night use, regula-
tion diving boards, lounge chairs, tables, brilliantly col-
ored umbrellas, and lockers for boys and girls.
Foundation facilities include, in addition, a Softball
diamond with bleachers, a 140 by 100 foot skating rink
for which skates are furnished free, basketball courts,
a football gridiron, badminton courts, tennis courts, ping
pong tables, an outdoor barbecue, an arts and crafts
room, clubrooms, workshops, classrooms, a medical clinic
Any time Bud and Lou can spare is spent looking
over shoulders in the ever-humming Hobby Shop.
For the smallest people, there's
the larger playground, a have
t playground within
for the pint-sized.
and a dental clinic. Both clinics are fully equipped.
Sand boxes, a wading pool, teeter-totters, a miniature
merry-go-round, slides, a large room for drawing and
games, a children's library, and a record player and
radio are among the features of The Little People's
Department, an enclosed wonderland for tots from six
to eight.
These are available to the public seven days a week,
from 10 A.M. until 10:15 P.M., under the pleasant, un-
obtrusive supervision of a paid staff of college-trained
social and playground workers.
Dentists and doctors are on call free of charge for
needy youngsters. Children suffering malnutrition get
free vitamins. Food is distributed at a foundation snack
bar that boasts a complete soda fountain.
"Costello is worshipped by (Continued on page 74)
Abbott and Coatello i
> heard on ABC. Wednesday at 9:00 P.M.. Saturday
Oat of sight of the panel, Ruby Sheppard lets the
studio audience in on the words to be guessed.
fflHE Vanderventers of Princeton,
J_ New Jersey, are one of the most pop-
ular families in America. Every Sat-
urday night they play an old fashioned
parlor game called Twenty Questions,
but unlike other families, they don't
gather in their living room with a few
friends. Instead, they seat themselves
comfortably in front of Mutual Network
microphones where they proceed to
amuse and often astound millions of
American and Canadian listeners. Their
skill at identifying the difficult "animal,
vegetable or mineral" subjects has
prompted Walter Winchell to dub them
"Masters of Quizzardry."
The whole idea for the program orig-
inated with the Vanderventer's daugh-
ter, Nancy. One night they were enter-
The Mystery Voice (Jack Irish) keeps the radio lis-
teners up to the minute on the panel's guesswork.
When Cuy Kibbee
was guest, guesses
were wild. Twenty
Questions is heard
Saturday nights at
8, on MBS stations.
The commercials on Twenty Questions are spirit-
edly read by Charlotte Maneon, Frank Waldecker.
ie Vanderventers »aj a friendly
taining a dinner guest who was dis-
cussing his idea for a new radio quiz
program with Nancy's Dad, Fred Van-
derventer, one of radio's top news-
casters. Mom, now known to listeners
as Florence Rinard, was being gracious
and polite to their visitor. Nancy's
brother, Bobby, was concentrating on
his tomato soup. But Nancy, whose
mind often seems jet propelled and who
is equally quick to voice her opinions,
told their guest that she thought his
idea was very stale.*
"If I were planning a quiz program,
I'd like something different. Maybe I'd
try something along the lines of the
game Twenty Questions," she informed
him authoritatively.
After her (Continued on page 95)
Gary Stevens, producer,
and quizmaster Bill Sla-
ter make things harder.
^j
.
P"
w^
r
•
i
i
i
>* M m* m."
7
T^l
^5^^,
— i Tim
*■-
—
■-
'
■Bhmm^
OM ol .l(ht of A. i*>d, Hnby Sbeppwo ku ike
MaJi> «•<««»« In on lb. "•"•• >• •» Me"*1-
fflHE Vanderventers of Princeton,
I New Jersey, are one of the most pop.
ular families in America. Every Sat-
urday night they play an old fashioned
parlor game called Twenty Questions,
but unlike other families, they don't
gather in their living room with a few
friends. Instead, they seat themselves
comfortably in front of Mutual Network
microphones where they proceed to
amuse and often astound millions of
American and Canadian listeners. Their
skill at identifying the difficult "animal,
vegetable or mineral" subjects has
prompted Walter Winchell to dub them
"Masters of Quizzardry."
The whole idea for the program orig-
inated with the Vanderventer's daugh-
ter, Nancy. One night they were enter-
taining a dinner guest who was dis-
cussing his idea for a new radio quiz
program with Nancy's Dad, Fred Van-
derventer, one of radio's top news-
casters. Mom, now known to listeners
as Florence Rinard, was being gracious
and polite to their visitor. Nancy's
brother, Bobby, was concentrating on
his tomato soup. But Nancy, whose
mind often seems jet propelled and who
is equally quick to voice her opinions,
told their guest that she thought his
idea was very stale.'
'Tf I were planning a quiz program,
I'd like something different. Maybe I'd
try something along the lines of the
game Twenty Questions," she informed
him authoritatively.
After her (Continued on page 95)
W i..i.n=-..J on Twenty QoetdMU tre •pirit<
tdTj rod by Charlotte Mum, Frank Wildcckcr.
.A
*-*.W;
When HOLLY SLOAN came to New York City from Mait-
land, N. Y.; she found that merely leaving her home town
was not enough to make her a self-reliant "career girl."
Gradually, her city experiences have made her more mature:
her job, for instance, as secretary to Wilbur Ramage, brilliant
producer for the NYBC radio network: her meeting with
dynamic young Johnny Starr, and the attraction that blazed
into love. And most of all, perhaps, Holly's character has
strengthened through her own determination to forge a place
for herself as a radio singer. For she understands how small
her chances are, yet she continues to work hard, and to hope
thai luck will favor her, (Holly Sloan is played by Gale Page)
When Holly was eight, her mother died, and AUNT
KETURAH came to keep house for Holly and her father,
HENRY SLOAN. Through the years, Keturah, who is blind,
has been mother, counselor and friend to Holly. When the
family' came to New York so that Dad Sloan could develop
his wood-working business, Keturah was at first oppressed by
the noise and restlessness of city life. But now she has
LAURALEE to worry about — little Lauralee McWilliams,
crippled and embittered, who became a member of the
household when her mother was forced to go to a hospital.
(Henry Sloan is played by Charles Seel; Keturah is played by
Georgia Backus; Lauralee McWilliams is Marlene Aames I
42
HOLLY
— wnv (etvwib mat a via all teemb fo exaaae^a/e
JOHNNY STARR, attractive, charm-
ing, almost became the typical "young
man about Manhattan" — except that
he had too much intelligence to be
forced into such a pattern. Instead,
he has worked hard enough to become,
at less than thirty, a vice-president of
NYBC. He has successfully escaped
his wealthy mother's apron strings,
and is ready to defy her over his
engagement to Holly Sloan, whom the
despotic Mrs. Starr fears and hates.
(Johnny Starr is played by Bob Bailey)
HOLLY
SLOAN
CLAY BROWN is from Maitland,
too — in fact, it was in search of
Holly that he first came to New
York. He found a friend in warm-
hearted SALLY BROWN, who is
no relation, but who helped when
he was in trouble. But Clay is so
much in love with Holly that he is
blind to everything else — blind to
Sally's love for him, and also to
the fact of Holly's love for Johnny
Starr. (Clay is played by Vic
Perrin; Sally is Louise Arthur)
MILLICENT STARR's world is com-
posed of her wealth, her position . . .
and Johnny. She has never understood
why Johnny prefers to maintain his own
New York apartment rather than live
more luxuriously with her on Long
Island, and she so despises Holly that
she will go to any length to prevent
this "country girl" from "trapping"
Johnny into marriage. She uses a
heart condition to k«ep Johnny by
her side, and away from Holly Sloan.
(Millicent is played by B. J. Thompson)
WILBUR RAMAGE, production manager of
NYBC, is one of President PRENTISS JEF-
FRIES' most brilliant aides. Wilbur can certainly
help advance his secretary Holly's radio career — -
if he doesn't complicate things by falling in love
with her. (Wilbur Ramage, at left, is Bob Grif-
fin: Prentiss Jeffries is played by Joe Forte)
ADELE KINGMAN is a successful career girl. As
Talent Director for NYBC, she has the respect of her
co-workers, the favorable eye of President Prentiss
Jeffries, and had — until Holly Sloan arrived — the
particular attention of Johnny Starr. Adele loves
Johnny, but she fought to overcome her resent-
ment of Holly. (Adele is played by Helene Burke)
45
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BOY WITH BIKE
Radio Mirror's Prize Poem
I think he has a bicycle up there,
Just like the one he loved so much on earth.
I'm sure the angels, as they stitched and
pinned
And matched new feathers, noticing the
mirth
That lingered roguishly in those bright
eyes,
(As if they still saw kites and tops and
things
Like that) decided then and there
A boy would much prefer a bike to wings!
And so I picture those small, tireless feet,
Still in the same scuffed shoes he wore down
here,
As pedaling up a gentle, blue-hazed slope
Then coasting slowly, (For the Throne is
near).
And oh, I know all Heaven understands
And smiles to hear him shout, "Look, God!
No hands!"
— Billie Marie Crabb
SANS STRINGS
I lend flour to the lady next door
Or salt or butter or bread,
I don't get them back from the lady next door
(Sometimes I borrow instead.)
I lend books to the man" down the way.
He must have a dozen or more;
And dollars to people who'll never repay —
Like the lad in the novelty store.
I lend paper and dresses and soap
And socks to the girl 'cross the hall.
I let them go with never a hope —
Not that it matters at all.
Then one day I offered my heart — as a gift-
To a stranger who just happened by,
And he laughed as he took it — and dropped
it — and broke it
And returned it — with scarcely a sigh.
— -Minna Adams
TO ONE WAYFARING
If you should reach your star
And bring it down
To set resplendent in
Your chosen crown,
0, I would join my voice
To aH high praise
And show my love for you
In quiet ways
Within the radiance of
Your strength and power,
1, too, would know a little
shining hour.
But should you fail, my love,
O, should you fail.
Returning without star
Or holy grail.
Then might my love in splendor
Show itself.
Spread like a wing upon
The heart's wide shelf,
Healing your wounds of pride.
Of dork defeat.
Until, in wonderment.
You found them sweet.
—Gladys McKee
THE DIFFERENCE
Whether you like or dislike a
plan,
Such as "Sharing the Wealth" is.
Depends on whether the wealth
to be shared,
Is yours or somebody else's.
— W. H. Nusbaum
TWO MEN
One man will shout his creed from a
street corner
Where crowds rush by, and yet re-
main unheard;
While one in silence lifts the stone of
Time,
And hews upon it one immortal
word.
— Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
* * *
Browse a bit among these verses, for one of them
BOBTAILED TUNES
My heart is light with singing
Skylarking, bobtailed tunes
With no more rhyme nor reason
Than fluted pantaloons.
I've soup to eat for supper
All filled with luscious stuff . . .
And butternuts are in my cake,
But that is not enough
To cause this tumbling music
My heart can not define.
I wonder dear, if it could be
The way your eyes meet mine?
— Helen Mitchel
COMFORT
You come with reassurance for
my grief,
And teach me why I have no
cause to mourn.
Never a bough, you say, but
came to leaf
After the weight of winter
had been borne;
Never a midnight yet but came
to dawn,
And no dark dream that crept
on heavy feet
But vanished lightly after
sleep was gone.
All this I know. And laughter
still is sweet.
But if you cancel every grief
with cheer,
What of this little hollow in
my heart,
Shaped to a memory, desolate
and dear,
And for my secret teardrops
set apart?
Your calm philosophy can
hardly see
How much my tender sorrow
comforts me.
— Silence Buck Bellows
POPULAR POET
I find her verses quite appealing;
They leave me with a tickly
feeling;
And yet, despite the cash they
net her,
I always think my own are
better.
Though fame and fortune come
to woo her.
And editors en masse pursue her,
I dare, though ethics would
forbid it,
At times, to wonder how she did
it.
But if contrarily I question
Her methods (What a foul
suggestion!)
Or if perchance I'm over-zealous.
My conscience screams that I am
jealous.
The fact she's sometimes
mediocre,
Though insufficient to provoke
her.
Reminds me -that I Tnust be
gallant
And not reveal my hidden talent.
— Faye Chilcote Walker
By TED MALONE
Be sure to listen to Ted
Malone's morning program,
Monday through Friday
at 11:45 EDT, over ABC.
THE SKY REMEMBERS
Woods listen still to birdsong
When all birds have flown:
The sky remembers rainbows
It has known.
—Mary Carolyn Davies
will surely put words to your mood of the moment
MJJHffHHl
RADIO MIRROR will pay fifty dollars
for the original poem, sent in by a reader, selected by Ted Malone
as the best of that month's poems submitted by readers. Five dollars
will be paid for each other original poem submitted and printed
on the Between the Bookends pages in Radio Mirror. Address your
poetry to Ted Malone, Radio Mirror, 205 East 42nd Street, New
York 17, N. Y. Poetry submitted should be limited to thirty lines.
When postage is enclosed every effort will be made to return un-
used manuscripts. This is not a contest, but an offer to purchase
poetry for Radio Mirror's Between the Bookends.
****** * * ^
Each Sunday night, Dick
finds his heart in his throat — -
but his fingers go right
on playing that winning accordion
BECK COJVTIJVO
I CAN hardly believe all the wonderful
things that have happened to me in the
last six months. But there are a few mil-
lion witnesses from coast to coast who have
heard it as it happened. And, maybe if I
tell my story, other boys and girls who have
dreams like mine will be encouraged to have
faith in themselves and keep trying.
A year ago I graduated from Fresno High
School at seventeen and entered Fresno State
College. I majored in music because that
was the only thing in the world I cared about.
After two weeks at college I grew restless.
Just having music in the classroom wasn't
enough for me. I had to get out and make
music.
I talked the matter over with my parents,
and because they understood me completely,
they agreed that I couldn't be happy unless I
was playing my accordion.
So, with their approval, I went over to the
Fresno Musicians Union to see about out-
of-town bookings. I had joined the Fresno
Musicians Union two years previously, and
all the men had been especially kind to me
because I was their youngest member when
I started at the age of fifteen.
That night there were no spectacular sky-
rockets fighting the Fresno skies, but there
might just as well have been for me. Be-
Night with Horace Heidt, on which Dick Contino may be
'I've made some wonderful friends in all the places we've, stopped."
cause it was the evening I bumped into one
of Horace Heidt's scouts who was looking
for performers to compete in the Horace
Heidt National Talent Contest radio program.
He explained to me that Mr. Heidt was
starting on a cross-country tour, looking for
talented boys and girls in some of the smaller
as well as larger towns all over the United
States. Every week the Heidt scouts would
gather up all prospective contestants in these
towns and audition them carefully. The field
would then be narrowed down to four or five
acts which would appear on the Sunday night
program over NBC. The winner of each
week's contest would be carried over to com-
pete against new rivals in a new town on the
following week.
Thus one individual could continue to com-
pete as long as he continued to win.
The weekly prize was two hundred and
fifty dollars; the quarter-finals award was
seven hundred and fifty, in addition to the
chance of becoming a regular member of Mr.
Heidt's troupe.
That same evening I was auditioned. After
waiting around for a bewildering half-hour
with my fingers turning from water to ice, I
found myself standing in the middle of a bare
stage, playing "Lady of Spain" with a kind of
earnest desperation. (Continued on page 88)
heard, is a Sunday night feature on NBC, at 10:30 P.M. EOT.
"Mom and Dad came
all the way from
Fresno to New York
for the quarter-
finals. I knew I had
to win, for them!"
I
"When I started out
with the show, Hor-
ace Heidt told my
folks I'd be well
taken care of. Those
weren't just words."
49
.
J
/ r
>))/i till/'))'
flrl II
>m ft
Each Sunday night, Dick
finds his heart in his throat —
but his fingers go right
on playing that winning accordion
By
DICK COJVTHjVfl)
I CAN hardly believe all the wonderful
things that have happened to me in the
last six months. But there are a few mil-
lion witnesses from coast to coast who have
heard it as it happened. And, maybe if I
tell my story, other boys and girls who have
dreams like mine will be encouraged to have
faith in themselves and keep trying.
A year ago I graduated from Fresno High
School at seventeen and entered Fresno State
College. I majored in music because that
was the only thing in the world I cared about
After two weeks at college I grew restless.
Just having music in the classroom wasn't
enough for me. I had to get out and make
music.
I talked the matter over with my parents,
and because they understood me completely,
they agreed that I couldn't be happy unless I
was playing my accordion.
So, with their approval, I went over to the
Fresno Musicians Union to see about out-
of-town bookings. I had joined the Fresno
Musicians Union two years previously, and
all the men had been especially kind to me
because I was their youngest member when
I started at the age of fifteen.
That night there were no spectacular sky-
rockets lighting the Fresno skies, but there
might just as well have been for me. Be-
-Ith Honor Hrtdl, on which Die* Contino -ft*!
'I've made tomt wonderful friends in all the places we've itopped."
cause it was the evening I bumped into one
of Horace Heidt's scouts who was looking
for performers to compete in the Horace
Heidt National Talent Contest radio program.
He explained to me that Mr. Heidt was
starting on a cross-country tour, looking for
talented boys and girls in some of the smaller
as well as larger towns all over the United
States. Every week the Heidt scouts would
gather up all prospective contestants in these
towns and audition them carefully. The field
would then be narrowed down to four or five
acts which would appear on the Sunday night
program over NBC. The winner of each
week's contest would be carried over to com-
pete against new rivals in a new town on the
following week.
Thus one individual could continue to com-
pete as long as he continued to win.
The weekly prize was two hundred and
fifty dollars; the quarter-finals award was
seven hundred and fifty, in addition to the
chance of becoming a regular member of Mr.
Heidt's troupe.
That same evening I was auditioned. After
waiting around for a bewildering half-hour
with my fingers turning from water to ice, I
found myself standing in the middle of a bare
stage, playing "Lady of Spain" with a kind of
earnest desperation. (Continued on page 88)
«*.!•• ShmUt niahi fM|Ur*ofi NBC at l#»J» P.M. BUT.
"Mom and Dad ram*
all the way from
Freano to Ne* Vorl
for the quarter-
final*. I knew I
to win, for them!"
"Whni I iiarted out
with the ih.»w, llor
IfBj llri.tl told "'■
folk. I'd he welt
taken rare ol. Thoaa
wrrrrt'i ju»t mrsW
THE MADE-FOR-EACH-OTHER
£ a^t/
Not till they cut the cake did Don believe
Norma was marrying him, not his brother. Be-
low, Norma with her father, who gave her away.
Ski clothes for their honeymoon: an extra gift to Mr. and Mrs. Don Wi
By
JOHN
NELSON
This story is told for Ra-
dio Mirror by the m.c. of
Bride and Groom, heard
daily at 2:30 EDT, ABC.
MOST important of all, let's try to keep it always the
love story of the boy and girl next door." That
was how John Masterson summed up the basic
idea of the Bride and Groom broadcasts, when he orig-
inated the program more than three years ago. Instead
of a dreamed-up "tinsel and glamor" affair, the story of
each day's couple was to be a true romance that had
really happened to the kind of people we all know in our
everyday life.
Not that this has meant ruling out excitement or
drama. Just the opposite. Even the world's best writer
of melodrama couldn't dream up plots more unusual, or
exciting, or even hilarious, than the things that happened
in the real-life romances of these couples.
For example, the couple who first met when the boy
placed the girl under arrest (he was a traffic cop), and
The young sculptor regarded the Rose Queen
Norma and Don wanted the ski clothes for the Sun Valley honeymoon that was an important
part of their Bride and Groom collection of wedding presents. Tuck, one of Sun Valley's
hunting dogs, became a good friend; he skis as well as — or better than — many of the customers.
presented by John Nelson.
the couple whose love story took place in the hush-hush
atmosphere of the atom-bomb project — and the couples
whose proposals had the various settings of a pawn-
shop, a locked museum, and a war-torn European city,
with one proposal even being made over a trans- oceanic
phone when the boy and girlhad no idea if they would
ever again see one another.
Yes, those of us who have listened to the hundreds of
love stories of the "boy and girl next door" know that
truth really is stranger than fiction. That's why unknown
bridal couples have so greatly out-numbered the head-
line celebrities on Bride and Groom. We've had front-
page names, yes — war heroes, motion picture people,
writers, and artists — but in each case the couple was
chosen not because they were celebrities, but because
theirs was an outstanding love story.
That was true of the recent appearance of just about
the most beautiful bride and the most handsome groom
ever to appear on our broadcasts — Norma Christopher
and Donald Winton, of Pasadena, California. We weren't
the first ones to be aware of Norma's unusual beauty,
either. In fact, a whole city beat us to it.
Norma was attending the Pasadena City College when
the events started that were to make her name and face
so well known to hundreds of thousands of people
everywhere. Her school was one of the two colleges
from which candidates were chosen for the royal role
of Queen for the famous Pasadena Tournament of Roses.
A total of one hundred and fifty candidates were
chosen from the colleges — on the basis of beauty, poise,
and scholastic ability — and, of course, the beautiful
Norma was included. But being (Continued on page 78)
with suspicion. She was too busy being beautiful, he thought, to have time to be anything else.
51
1
THE MADrMM-KMH-OTItEll
Not till they cut the cake did Don believe
Norma WOH marrying hiin, not his brother. Be-
Inw. Norma with licr father, who gave her away.
Norma and Don wanted the ski clothes for the Sun Valley honeymoon that WDi an important
part of their Bride and Groom collection of wedding presents. Tuck, one of Sun Valb-yV
a good friend; he skis as well as — or better than— muny of the customers.
By
JOIN
NELSON
■torj la told for Itu-
>lio Mirror by Hit- m.c. of
Hriit<- and Groom, hrard
dully ol 2:30 EDT. ABC.
Ski clothes for the
MOST important o£ all, let's try to keep it always the
love story ol the boy and girl next door." That
was how John Masterson summed up the basic
idea of the Bride and Groom broadcasts, when he orig-
inated the program more than three years ago. Instead
of a dreamed-up "tinsel and glamor" affair, the story of
each day's couple was to be a true romance that had
really happened to the kind of people we all know in our
everyday life.
Not that this has meant ruling out excitement or
drama. Just the opposite. Even the world's best writer
of melodrama couldn't dream up plots more unusual, or
exciting, or even hilarious, than the things that happened
in the real-life romances of these couples.
For example, the couple who first met when the boy
placed the girl under arrest (he was a traffic cop), and
The young sculptor regarded the Rose QueH
the couple whose love story took place in the hush-hush
atmosphere of the atom-bomb project — and the couples
whose proposals had the various settings of a pawn-
shop, a locked museum, and a war-torn European city,
with one proposal even being made over a trans-oceanic
phone when the boy and girl had no idea if they would
ever again see one another.
Yes, those of us who have listened to the hundreds of
love stories of the "boy and girl next door" know that
truth really is stranger than fiction. That's why unknown
bridal couples have so greatly out-numbered the head-
line celebrities on Bride and Groom. We've had front-
page names, yes — war heroes, motion picture people,
writers, and artists — but in each case the couple was
chosen not because they were celebrities, but because
theirs was an outstanding love story.
That was true of the recent appearance of just about
the most beautiful bride and the most handsome groom
ever to appear on our broadcasts — Norma Christopher
and Donald Winton, of Pasadena, California. We weren't
the first ones to be aware of Norma's unusual beauty,
either. In fact, a whole city beat us to it.
Norma was attending the Pasadena City College when
the events started that were to make her name and face
so well known to hundreds of thousands of people
everywhere. Her school was one of the two colleges
from which candidates were chosen for the royal role
of Queen for the famous Pasadena Tournament of Roses.
A total of one hundred and fifty candidates were
chosen from the colleges — on the basis of beauty, poise,
and scholastic ability--and, of course, the beautiful
Norma was included. But being (Continued on page 78)
with suspicion. She was too busy being beautiful, he thought, to have time to be anything else.
MRS. DIONE LUCAS's special skill has made her
WCBS-TV show, To the Queen's Taste, one of the
most popular on television. Well, most everyone is
interested in good food, and Mrs. Lucas is an expert
on the subject. She is a graduate of L'Ecole du Cordon
Bleu in Paris — which has been issuing diplomas in
European cookery to graduates for centuries. She
and another English alumna opened a London replica
of L'Ecole 15 years ago. The venture was approved
by the Paris director, who gave them permission to
bestow the "Cordon Bleu" on graduates. Mrs. Lucas
opened her New York restaurant-school in 1942. To
date she has taught thousands of Americans to ap-
preciate European cooking. Her television cooking
lesson (Thursdays, 8: 15 P.M.) comes from her "Cor-
don Bleu" kitchen under the same conditions enjoyed
by pupils of her school.
DENNIS JAMES has
built up an enthusi-
astic following with
his Dumont sports-
casting. He injects so
much humor into his
television sports com-
mentary that many
fans consider it the
most important part of
the telecast. He snaps
a little gadget, when
wrestlers are in a particularly tight hold, that sounds
exactly like bones cracking. And he is the one who
discovered and spotlighted "Hatpin Mary" — that
energetic middle-aged woman who had a ringside
seat at every wrestling match, and if she "didn't con-
sider the action fast enough or if the wrestlers stayed
in a locked position too long, would scamper up to
the ropes and jab the top man with a long hatpin.
ADRIENNE: Eighteen
bachelors of Forest
Hills, Long Island,
have formed one of
the very first fan clubs
in television. It is in
honor of a tall, dark,
beautiful girl with a
thrilling voice. Her
name is Adrienne.
Just Adrienne. She is
seen and heard on Du-
mont's Champagne
and Orchids.
Each week Adrienne
has an attractive man-
about-town as a guest.
She use's a set that televises like a corner of a sump-
tuous apartment. She is always exquisitely gowned —
all this plus an outstanding voice makes her program
a joy.
Adrienne's mother is the famous Margaret Mat-
zenauer, one of the greatest mezzo-sopranos ever to
sing with the Metropolitan Opera. Her father, who
died several years ago, was Eduardo Ferrari-Fon-
tuna, a tenor with the Metropolitan. So, logically,
Adrienne was known as "The baby of the opera." Her
godfathers were Caruso and Pasquale Amato. As if
that weren't enough, she is a descendant of Johann
Sebastian Bach.
Adrienne has done stage and radio work, but her
greatest triumphs were in the top cafes in this country.
The most hardened critics dug deep into their sup-
plies of compliments to rave about her looks, voice,
and technique, when she appeared at the Hotel
Pierre, Rainbow Room, and the Drake in New York;
the Ritz Roof in Boston; and the Walton Roof in
Philadelphia, to name a few. That was perfect prep-
aration for television, and the training is evident in
the polish and charm she projects to the televiewer.
Adrienne's enthusiasm helps, too — she considers tele-
vision the perfect entertainment form.
TELEVISION
52
LANNY ROSS needs no
introduction to tele-
vision audiences. As
everyone knows, he
has been an outstand-
ing and popular sing-
er on the radio for
many years. Some of
his best known shows
were the Maxwell
House Showboat, the
Hit Parade, the Camel
Caravan. Not as well
known, but just as im-
pressive, are his activ-
ities in the late war.
Major Lanny Ross served 27 months overseas. Four
battle stars, the Legion of Merit, and the Philippines
Liberation ribbon are among his proudest possessions.
Now television audiences can see and hear him on the
Swift Show (NBT, Thurs. 8:30 P. M.).
BILL SLATER is cur-
rently the genial host
of Charade Quiz,
WABD, Thursdays at
8:30 P.M. One thing
video work has done
for him, says Bill, is
force him to turn
down fancy desserts.
Television cameras
add many pounds to
the person being tele-
vised, so it's a good
idea to stay slim as possible. While up to his ears in
television, Bill continues with his radio shows, Lunch-
eon at Sardi's and Twenty Questions.
WIN ELLIOTT'S first job— announcer on WMEX in
Boston — paid him fifteen dollars a week; today he
*is reputed to be the highest paid sportscaster in tele-
vision. A tall, fast-thinking young man of thirty-two,
Win spent his boyhood in Chelsea, just outside Bos-
ton. He started out studying medicine at the Univer-
sity of Michigan, but a post-graduate course in speech
and radio convinced him to give up scalpels and con-
centrate on diction. Fight years in broadcasting, with
jobs ranging from staff announcing and m.c.-ing to
disc-jockeying and sportscasting, turned Win into a
deft ad-libber with an amazing sense of tuning — an
essential factor in successful telecasting. Best known
for County Fair, Win is presently cutting a niche for
himself in television through his play-by-play-ac-
counts of professional sports over WCBS-TV.
ROGER FORSTER,
who narrates WABD's
nightly INS-INP Cam-
era Headlines show,
has had his thumb in
the video pie off and
on ever since he was
released from the
army. While in the
army, he worked on a
number of shows from
"Radio Tokyo" and
picked up some Japa-
nese and German accents which he puts to good
use in making his Camera Headlines television show
more vivid and interesting. In addition to his tele-
vision work for WABD, he's heard from coast-to-
coast as the man with the commercials on the Horace
Heidt show. He also announces Linda's First Love.
Roger lives in Englewood, N. J., with his pretty
southern -wife and four-year-old daughter.
TELEVISION
53
COAST to COAST
ANUT GALLERY
There's no more absorbed audience than the
Peanut Gallery that views "Howdy Doody" —
2& ,
— and "Howdy" himself is running for Presi-
dent. That's Howdy on Bob Smith's right.
At the Easter Parade, our Tele-editor Joan
Lloyd, Dennis James, and Sylvie St. Clair.
Norman Thomas contributed to a stimulating interview
by Leo Cherne on Dumont's Court of Current Issues.
"T HAVE a simply sensational idea for television!"
I You are liable to hear that or words to that effect
proclaimed by otherwise fairly self-contained citi-
zens everywhere you turn these days. It's natural enough.
Here, at long last, is a completely new entertainment
industry — one that isn't all sewed up; one that might
shoot newcomers to the top, and do it a great deal faster
than the established and overcrowded fields of the
theater, motion pictures, and radio. That television is
currently drawing talent and executive personnel from
those overcrowded fields does not curb any one's
enthusiasm; as indeed it should not, for television must
and will develop its own stars, producers, and directors.
Let's follow your brain child into the vast NBC Tele-
vision workshop. The beginnings of your "sensational"
idea conform pretty much to this pattern: You've seen
television shows, you know you could produce or star in
something better, you get the germ of a show idea, you
work out the details of the format . . . and then you find
yourself, frenzied with enthusiasm, facing a wide, high,
solid brick wall. "Now what?" you ask. "Where do I
go, and whom do I see?" After much confusion, you
might realize that you've heard that NBC is just about
the biggest video operation — why not submit your baby
there? Your man there is Mr. Owen Davis, Jr. His title
— and this gives you heart — is Director of Program
Preparation and Procurement for NBC Television.
You write Mr. Davis a charming letter, attaching an
outline of your television show. Let's say you call it
"Here's How," and it is to be a demonstration, different
each week, of how to play a popular parlor game. You
TELEVISION
For NBC's Mornings at Seven, small model of orchard is
used for long shots; life-size model is the background.
have worked out gimmicks for checkers, chess, parchesi,
monopoly, murder, charades, post office, etc., etc., you
explain how you plan to ring in comedy, information,
drama, romance, and a guest star. You toss around a
few words like "sure-fire," "television-wise," and
"audience-builder." Then you wait nervously to be
summoned. The call never comes. After what seems
an interminable period, there arrives one morning a
very chilly document known as a "release." A quick
glance will reveal that once you affix your signature
thereto you have no further claims on the National
Broadcasting Company, or its affiliates, or the Radio
Corporation of America, or Owen Davis, Jr. — in fact it
might from that day forward be a good idea to get per-
mission to walk through Rockefeller Plaza. However
you sign and return the release, putting yourself com-
pletely in their gold-filled hands.
Upon receipt of your signed waiver, your format is
read for the first time by Mr. Davis and his staff. They
do not read anything before receiving a release since
they may already have a similar idea on hand. The
works are then sent' down to the NBC Legal Depart-
ment, where the day received, day read, and a brief
outline of the show are recorded. At this point one of
three things can happen: The whole business can be
returned to you with a polite note to the effect that your
idea is not deemed suitable for WNBT at this time, but
they are extremely grateful fer your interest — in short,
no dice. Secondly they might regretfully inform you
that they have on file five other programs of a similar
nature known respectively as (Continued on page 100)
Mortimer and Bergen check a script with
NBC's Fred Coe, and Harry Herman.
Owen Davis, Jr.: NBC's Director of Pro-
gram Preparation, the "idea factory."
TELEVISION
A scene direct from the Broadway stage
show "Mr. Roberts", televised by CBS.
55
ran mason
PERRY MASON is a criminal lawyer, one of the most feared — and admired — men in his profession. Hard work
and hard fighting have helped him achieve his reputation, but he is able to build success upon success because tough-
ness is not his only asset. Behind a hard-boiled facade Perry conceals a shrewd understanding of people, an awareness
of their emotional patterns and of their relationships to each other that acts like a sixth sense when he is on a case.
DELLA STREET, Perry's secretary, is in love with him. It's an almost hopeless love that never quite dies, for. there
is always a smile, a touch, a warm word from Perry to feed her hope that some day he will look at her and see, not an
invaluable co-worker, but an attractive woman. Meanwhile, she works devotedly with him on behalf of MARY McKEEN,
whose husband David has disappeared in a plane over the Caribbean, leaving her unprotected against his predatory sister,
Elizabeth. (Perry Mason is played by John Larkin; Delia is Joan Alexander; Mary, on the left, is Mary Jane Higby)
Perry Maaon, haaed on the character created by Erie Stanley Gardner, ia heard Monday through Friday at 2:15 P.M. EDT, on CBS atations.
56
mhlsAMob
Perry Mason fights to
protect a woman from an
enemy driven by one of
the most dangerous motives
known to man
ELIZABETH WREN, sister of the
missing David McKeen, has taken
advantage of Mary's grief-stricken
collapse to have her declared an
unfit mother for the one-year-old
McKeen baby. Liz's aim, as always,
is to gain possession of the money
David controlled. In her persecu-
tion of Mary, Liz has had the help
of her vicious friend, DR. KEE-
GAN. (Liz is played by Inge Adams ;
Dr. Keegan is Eric Dressier)
PAUL DRAKE is Perry's assistant,
a young man highly adept at get-
ting information out of people even
when they're determined not to
give it. It's Paul who does much
of the "leg work" that provides
evidence for the wily, ingenious
cases Perry Mason is famous for
developing. Liz Wren is up against
an almost unbeatable combination
in Perry, Paul and Delia. (Paul
is played by Charles Webster)
57
^//■en/?u& tttaA um awi/, vmew
/fuAe/w: Ac nod f /uh u&t
vwt*>/rie </mu, ne vea
cwme a/n
By KOBBIN COONS
Perfect wedding: nervous groom, radiant bride, kindly Father John Conlon.
THIS is the story of some golden days in the
life of Dennis ,Day. . . .
It's the tale of a bridegroom who did not
forget the wedding ring, and of a bride
whose very first biscuits were neither burned
to a crisp nor stony-hard; of a wedding that
was "simply beautiful" and of a honey-
moon that was brief but perfect — unless you
count as imperfections' such minor details as
the car radiator that froze in the night, the
mountain lion that got away, the lamb chops
that played iceberg. . . .
The story began, actually, when Boy met
Girl. That was two years ago.
Margaret Ellen Almquist was the daughter
of family friends of Dennis's folks, the Mc-
Nultys. She lived in Lynwood, a pleasant
community close to (Continued on page 82)
"Who is she?" everyone asked when Dennis Day bypassed all the career girls he'd dated and mar-
ried Margaret Ellen Almquist. The answer is pure American traditional: Peggy's the girl next
door. Or almost. And as far as careers go, she's got one: homemaking for the Dennis Da>;..
^ Day in the Life of Dennis Day is heard on NBC, Wed., H P.M. EDT.
59
J
Z&ewmi iwA ukc cm>u other
/fumtiuw: m new nia li&t
Vat -one da/ii h<- vecamc <m
eace/dion. ^/lj> me/ trw
<mw/ wAc Mted them:
By ROBBIN COONS
Perfect wedding: nervous groom, radiant bride, kindly Father John
THIS is the story of some golden days in t:
life of Dennis Day. . . .
It's the tale of a bridegroom who did n<<
forget the wedding ring, and of a brio'
whose very first biscuits were neither burne
to a crisp nor stony-hard; of a wedding thai
was "simply beautiful" and of a honey-
moon that was brief but perfect— unless yon
count as imperfections' such minor details as
the car radiator that froze in the night, the
mountain lion that got away, the lamb chop's
that played iceberg. . . .
The story began, actually, when Boy met
GirL That was two years ago.
Margaret Ellen Almquist was the daughter
of family friends of Dennis's folks, the Mc-
Nultys. She lived in Lynwood, a pleasant
community close to (Continued on page 82)
"Who is she?" everyone asked when Dennis Day bypassed all the career girls he'd dated and mar-
ried Margaret Ellen Almquist. The answer is pure American traditional: Peggy's the girl next
door. Or almost. And as far as careers go, she's got one: homemaking for the Dennis Days.
A Day in the Life of Omnia Day U heard an NBC, Wed.. S P.M. BDT.
BY way of the oil-scented bower of an Indian poten-
tate's favorite dancing girl, of a lion-infested farm
in the Himalayan mountains, and of a big-hearted
Iowa town — that's how our "Traveler of the Month"
came to us.
She's Grace Arnold, the eighteen-year-old daughter
of a British aristocrat and a dark- eyed Indian dancing
girl, and the true story that she told our coast-to-coast
party sounded like a potpourri of Rudyard Kipling,
Cecil B. DeMille and the Arabian Nights. It will be
many months of travelers before I forget this pretty
young lady. Also, I won't forget the family of modern
pioneers who had brought Grace from India to America,
and who were returning with her to the Himalayas.
They are Mr. and Mrs. Max Strong and their three
young children — a family that calls Atlantic, Iowa, its
American home, but spends most of its time on a mission
farm in India.
I'll get ahead of my story a little and tell you this:
Mr. and Mrs. Strong had brought Grace to America
because they feared she was going to be kidnapped in
India, kidnapped by a Mohammedan brother who re-
sented her conversion to Christianity and planned to
return her, by night, to the walled, veiled world of
Mohammedan women. Getting the idea that eighteen-
year-old Grace had quite a story?
Grace's father was William Canning Arnold, son of
Sir Edward Arnold, a British nobleman and man of
letters. The younger Arnold had made his way to India,
and finally to the province of Bhopal. There, in a way
that Grace couldn't explain, he met an Indian woman
BY TOMMY BARTLETT
This Welcome Travelers story is told for Radio Mirror
by the program's M.C. Hear it daily at 12 N., EDT, on ABC.
7&e utfaiyue o£ Old *)ttcti€t, weaver cut
80
of great beauty — the No. One dancing girl of the powerful
Nwab of Bhopal.
The romance of this impetuous young Britisher and
the fiery daughter of a world of harems was a brave
flame, burning despite the disapproval of both Indians
and Englishmen. Young Arnold married his dancing girl,
and they had two children, Grace and her older brother.
Grace led a happy life until her seventh year. But then
Arnold was knifed and murdered in a senseless brawl,
and for a time the English half of Grace Arnold also
was dead.
Her mother returned to her old benefactor, the Nwab
of Bhopal. As a dancing girl of beauty, as a prime favorite
who glided from behind a screen to entertain the Nwab
and his guests at important banquets, Grace's mother
rated much comfort. She and her children had their own
house and gardens near that of the Nwab, and there were
servants to attend all their needs, i This went on for a
year, until the spirited dancing girl/ fell ill with malaria,
/
adueHtunacu S*tf&4&*H&* a**L * <£<&*& -cqect dancing yvil ittfo t&U uttfaioe£tci6le IteuAciexA fate
id died despite all the care of the Nwab's physicians.
The Nwab felt kindly toward the two little orphans,
and Grace and her brother stayed on with him, protected
jy him and tutored to take their places in the Mohamme-
lan world.
In England, however, their father's family had other
plans. A prim, British spinster of an aunt — parasol and
all — decided that Grace was to return to Britain and
enter Mayfair society. The aunt made her way to India,
found Grace and tried to hide her disapproval of the
girl's mode of living while inviting her to return to
England. To Grace, however, this woman was an envoy
from an alien world, and she wanted to stay in her own
Mohammedan world. And the aunt, still clutching that
parasol, returned to England alone.
Some time later, Grace told me, she was converted to
Christianity. And with her conversion came a desire to
leave the Nwab and live among the people whom she now
called her own.
Just how Grace parted from the Nwab is not clear.
Anyway, one night Grace and her brother were taken
out of Bhopal and guided to a unique farm at Champawat.
United Provinces, India. And at that farm she met, for
the first time, the Strong family.
Let me tell you about that farm. It was founded by a
missionary group to take care of the children of British
fathers and Indian mothers, the children of broken homes
who could find no place for themselves in the rigid caste
life of India. Maxon Strong, who had been sent to India
by the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions as an
Agricultural Engineer, ran the farm with his wife's help.
Their three children were born there, in a patch of clear
land encircled by jungles, by tigers and wild pigs and
leopards, by mysterious night sounds from the menacing
underbrush.
Here the British-Indian children worked, took Bible
lessons, got academic training and prepared to take useful
places in the world. Here the (Continued on page 99)
61
AS every radio listener by this time knows, it's a
far, loud cry from the old childhood game called
Truth or Consequences to the version that is
played Saturday nights at 8:30 EDT on NBC. There
are lots of differences, and not the least of these is
that the stakes you play for in the radio game are
so large they stagger the imagination. You remember,
for instance. Mrs. Florence Hubbard, whose story you
read in June Radio Mirror . . . winner of the Walking
Man Contest, she walked away with almost $23,000
worth of fabulous prizes. That's one reason why
Truth or Consequences contests normally arouse as
■much public tension as an international crisis — and
much more fun! And that's why we chose this
program for your front-row studio seats this month.
Well then, here you are in Hollywood, in comfort-
/vy
> 7
■■•,.»
BHB
able, colorful NBC Radio City Studio E, close enough
to the stage to see more than the ayerage studio guest
of what's going on up there. Background to the
action is formed by gleaming refrigerators and other
desirable odds and ends, a mere fraction of the con-
testant's possible winnings.
The people you see are, left to right: Al Pascal,
production manager; Fred Carney, assistant produc-
tion manager; Floyd Holm, supervisor of the program
for the Compton Advertising Agency; Phil Davis, one
of the writers; Ralph Edwards, in the midst of putting
the feathered contestant through his paces; standing
at right, Ed Bailey, the program's director. Sitting
behind Mr. Bailey, more contestants wait their turn.
Now, which do you pick: truth, or consequences?
Either way, you win!
63
IUR TICKET TO #v
AS every radio listener by this time knows, it's a
Ear, loud cry from the old childhood game called
Truth or Consequences to the version that is
played Saturday nights at 8:30 EDT on NBC. There
Eire lots of differences, and not the least of these is
that tile stakes you play for in the radio game are
so large they stagger the imagination. You remember,
for instance. Mrs. Florence Hubbard, whose story you
read in June Radio Mirror . . . winner of the Walk"i*
Man Contest, she walked away with almost $23,IW
worth of fabulous prizes. That's one reason Wft.
Truth or Consequences contests normally arouse as
much public tension as an international cr'sis_"^
much more fun! And that's why we chose ""
program for your front-row studio seats this moi
.nth
Well then, here you are in Hollywood, in
L-omfort'
able, colorful NBC Radio City Studio E, close enough
to the stage to see more than the average studio guest
of what's going on up there. Background to the
action is formed by gleaming refrigerators and other
desirable odds and ends, a mere fraction of the con-
testant's possible winnings.
The people. you see are, left to right: Al Pascal,
production manager; Fred Carney, assistant produc-
tion manager; Flovd Holm, supervisor of the program
for the Compton Advertising Agency; Phil Dav.s. one
of the writers; Ralph Edwards, in the midst of putting
the feathered contestant through his paces; standing
at right, Ed Bailey, the program's director. Sitting
behind Mr Bailey, more contestants wait theii turn
Now. which do you pick: truth, or consequ
Either way, you win!
The secret of a cool summer for the family cook lies right in the salad howl. Not "rahhit food,"
hut real food can come out of it: romhine a hearty hase with frilly greens, and there you are!
C4
/////■
Hi Mi
fir ■* »
IS there anyone who really likes to cook in hot
weather? I don't, so I plan my meals to come
out of the refrigerator. This only takes an hour
or two of work in the morning in the kitchen. It
is cool then and I get most of the day's cooking
out of the way.
A big hearty salad, hot rolls or biscuits and a
long cool drink often settle my supper problem.
The secret of this is to make that salad a hearty
one. I make it with a base of meat, cheese or fish
and plenty of fresh vegetables. Fruit salads are
my favorites for lunch. For the dressing I like just
plain sour cream. Lots of people think that sour
cream tastes sour. It doesn't really — it just has a
tang that goes perfectly with all kinds of fruit.
Gelatine salads, too, are good warm weather dishes.
I like them because they are so versatile; you can
make so many interesting and delicious dishes
from them. Here are my favorite summer recipes.
All of them keep the kitchen cool.
CHEF'S SALAD BOWL
1 cup shredded lettuce
1 cup shredded romaine
1 cup shredded cabbage
1 bunch watercress
% can luncheon meat or tongue cut in strips
4 hard cooked eggs, cut in wedges
% pound American cheese, cut in strips
% teaspoon dried thyme
2 tomatoes, sliced or wedged
Mayonnaise or French dressing
Combine crisp greens, add to meat, eggs, cheese
and thyme. Toss together lightly. Arrange toma-
toes and chill thoroughly. Serve with hot dressing
and refrigerator rolls and butter. Makes 6 servings.
FRANKFURTER POTATO SALAD
6 medium sized potatoes,
peeled, cooked and diced
V2 cup chopped celery
V2 cup minced dill pickle
3 frankfurters, cooked
1 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons minced onion 1 teaspoon dry mustard
6 radishes, sliced % cup mayonnaise (about)
Lettuce or watercress
Combine potatoes, celery, onion, radishes and
pickle. Skin frankfurters, slice and add to potato
mixture. Add salt, mustard and enough mayon-
naise to blend. Cover and chill well. Serve on
lettuce. Makes 6 servings.
FRESH FRUIT SALAD
1 tablespoon plain gelatine V4 cup lemon juice
Vz cup sugar V/2 cups diced or sliced fresh
1% cups water fruit or berries (do not
V4 cup orange juice use fresh pineapple)
V2 cup diced celery
Combine gelatine, sugar, water, orange and
lemon juice in a saucepan. Bring slowly to boiling,
over low heat. Stir until sugar and gelatine are
dissolved. Chill until slightly thickened. Fold in
fruit and celery. Turn into 6 individual custard
cups or one large mold. Chill until firm. Unmold
on crisp lettuce and garnish with mayonnaise.
Makes 6 servings.
Note: To serve as dessert, omit celery and add
other fruit.
CMAPEFRUIT RING FILLED WITH
SHRIMP SALAD
2 tablespoons plain gelatine
V2 cup cold water
3 cups sweetened grapefruit juice
% cups orange juice
V4 cup strained lemon juice
Watercress
2 cups shrimp salad
Combine gelatine and cold water. Add to grape-
fruit juice. Add the orange juice and lemon juice.
Bring to boiling over low {Continued on page 103)
By KATE SMITH
RADIO MIRROR FOOD COUNSELOR
Listen to Kate Smith Speaks
at 12 Noon each weekday, on
stations of the Mutual network.
65
Here is the story of the marriage of Rosemary — all the doubts, the heart-searching, the fears that
AFTERWARD, Rosemary couldn't recall that winter, that
brief and perfect season of her marriage, without
remembering also the "Liebestod" filling the living
room at home with the glorious, tragic love music of Tristan
and Isolde . . . without remembering Joyce Miller's radiant
face across a luncheon table.
Both Rosemary and her friend had their full share of
joy that day, and both for the same reason. Nothing could
touch them. The people at the tables around them, the
holiday shoppers hunching their shoulders against the
stinging wind outside, had no part in their private, blissful
world.
"Now," said Rosemary, "tell me about it — all your won-
derful news."
"It's this." Joyce hesitated, as if she were almost fearful
of putting so much happiness into words. "Will you be my
maid of honor?"
"So soon?" Rosemary gasped. "You're already making
plans — "
Joyce nodded. "I hope it's going to be next week. Dick's
final decree will come through any minute now, and then
we'll wait a few days, and then Dick wants us to get
married. Wants me," she finished in an awed voice, "to
become Mrs. Dick Phillips."
"But next week! Oh, Joycey, I'm afraid — "
"Don't say you can't!" Joyce interrupted swiftly. "You've
suffered with me through this whole thing, Rosemary, and
I just couldn't get married without you."
"But I may not be here next week," Rosemary protested.
"I may be in Chicago."
"Chicago! What for?"
"Because of Bill," Rosemary explained. "He's got to go
up there. There's someone who wants to see him, to find
out if he's a son or a brother missing in action. He made
the same kind of test here at the hospital the other day.
And of course he'd never seen the woman before, nor had
she ever seen him. I'm sure the same thing will happen in
Chicago. But there's always that chance — that slim chance
— that it may be somebody who is out of his past."
It hurt, talking about Bill's past, even to as good a friend
as Joyce Miller. It hurt to think that he'd had a young
lifetime which she knew nothing about, which Bill himself
knew nothing about. It would have been frightening, had
she let herself be afraid. But because she loved him, her
heart saw him whole, complete, even though her mind
knew that Bill's memory went hardly further than his
coming to Springdale and to the care of Dr. Jim Cotter —
hardly beyond his coming to the Dawson house, where Dr.
Jim had placed him.
"He's going to Chicago," Joyce repeated, "and you're
going with him?"
"I want to," Rosemary answered. "I think I should. But
Dr. Jim and Bill don't want me to go. They want to go
alone."
"Then let them," Joyce pleaded, "so you can be here
for my wedding."
Rosemary smiled at her, and yet wondered at the gap
that could exist even between friends as close as Joyce
and she. But then, she couldn't expect Joyce to understand
how she felt about the wall that divided Bill Roberts from
his past. Joyce's troubles with Dick had been entirely
different. Dick's life was an open book — perhaps too open.
President of the bank in Springdale, husband of Emily
Phillips. . . . No, Joyce hadn't had an easy time of it,
working side by side with Dick at the bank, loving him —
so hopelessly, it had seemed at first.
"Joycey," she said gently, "you know there's nothing I
wouldn't do for you. But I have to be near Bill. He went
through a test lasf night at our house . . ." She stared at
her plate, seeing instead the comfortable living room of the
Cape Cod bungalow on the Newtown Road, and her mother
and Dr. Jim, and Bill. Hearing the tremendous and painful
beauty of the "Liebestod" pouring out of the phonograph.
"We'd been window shopping that afternoon, Bill and I,"
she went on. "Day-dreaming about the things we'd have
when we were married. Then Bill said, 'We'll have a
wonderful record library. My favorite is Tristan and Isolde.
I love the 'Liebestod.' I love — ' And then he stopped, realiz-
ing that he was remembering something out of his past —
and he couldn't bring back any more of it. He remem-
Radio Mirror1* exclusive Keuder Bonus
novelette, complete in this inane, bring**
you for the iirHt time in Hlory form an im-
portant event in the life of HoHemary, just
as it was heard on the air. (Kosemary is
heard Mon.-Fri., CBS, 11:45 A.M. EDT)
66
went before it; all the joy of that glorious day when at last her cup of happiness brimmed full!
''Nothing," Rosemary thought, "can separate us now." (Rosemary is Betty Winkler; Bill is George Keane"1
bered a room and a fire and a radio playing softly, and
that was all. So — after we got home that night, I played
the 'Liebestod.' Dr. Jim was there, and he thought it was
a good idea, thought it would help Bill remember more.
It didn't — but it threw him into a terrible panic. He was
pale and shaking — "
Rosemary herself looked a little pale at the recollection.
Joyce spoke quickly.
"Then of course you have to go to Chicago with him,
Rosemary. I didn't realize it was so important — "
"It's terribly important," said Rosemary slowly. "The
least little thing might upset his balance, might even cause
the present to blot out. And oh, Joycey, sometimes in my
dreams I have nightmares when I think Bill doesn't know
me, doesn't remember who I am — "
"Maybe I can put off our wedding for a few days," said
Joyce. "You'll come back very soon, won't you?"
"Oh, yes." Rosemary nodded confidently. "The chances
are a million to one that it'll be no one related to Bill.
In that case, we'll take the very next train back to Spring-
dale. And I'll feel that we've put one more hurdle behind
us. You see, Joycey, it's the shock of his suddenly being
confronted with someone or something out of his past that
I'm afraid of. I can't help feeling that he'll be all right
if his memory returns gradually — as it is returning. Almost
every day some little fragment of something comes to him."
"And when he does remember everything and know who
he is — " Joyce smiled.
"When he does," Rosemary's laughter spilled over at the
very thought, "Mother and Dr. Jim and Bill himself can't
have any more objections to our getting married. We're
going to have the most wonderful life in the world."
"I know." Joyce's laugh echoed hers. "Oh, Rosemary,
it's such fun to have you feel the same way I do, to kno\v
you can't live without a man, just as I can't live without
Dick. Look at all those people on the street. Do you sup-
pose they all feel the way we do, are as happy and as
grateful as we are? I'm sure they're not. Because I had
67
Mother Dawson
(Marian Barney)
68
such a miserable life — I
never had love at all until
I met Dick."
"And it was just the op-
posite for me," said Rose-
mary softly. "I've had love
all my life — Mother, and
Patti, and Dr. Jim, who's
been almost like a father to
Patti and me. And yet, I
never came alive until I
met Bill."
"We've found what every-
body el§e is looking for,"
Joyce said. "We've been so
lucky. This isn't just the everyday thing. It's — "
"The sort of thing you read about in books but never
expect to feel yourself," Rosemary finished for her. "Oh,
Joycey — "
They smiled at each other. They couldn't stop smiling,
not with their cup of happiness brimming full. And yet,
there was more to come for Rosemary that very day.
Bill called for her in the late afternoon, when the office
was deserted and the street outside was quiet in the blue
winter twilight. Rosemary had been telephoning. She put
down the receiver as he came in.
* "That was Dr. Jim," she said. "He's coming over after
dinner to give me some more reasons as to why I shouldn't
go with you to Chicago."
Bill had put his hands on her shoulders, had been about
to kiss her. Now his hands remained where they were,
but his face set seriously.
"But, darling, we settled that. I told you I didn't want
you to go. As a favor to me, please wait here for me."
"Why, Bill?" She searched his face, knowing every line
of it, loving every line of it, even the lost and wistful
expression that was sometimes there, even when it was set
and forbidding as it was now. "Is there something special
about this trip that you haven't told me about? You said
yourself last night when that music upset you — You said
that having me there helped. You know you did."
"Rosemary — " For a moment he couldn't go on, not with
her troubled, candid eyes fixed upon his. He couldn't lie
to her; neither could he stand there and see her love
betrayed by telling her the truth. "Will you
trust me," he asked, "when I say I don't
want you — that I've my own reasons, and
I'm not going to tell them to you. no matter
how hard you beg nor how much you try
to get around them?"
"Then there is something!" Her hands
came up, curled hard around his wrists.
"There's something special about this trip
— why don't you tell me what it is? You
know that every little thing that happens
to you is so terribly important to me — "
"I'll tell you one thing," he said steadily,
"that I love you more than anything else
on this earth, more than any other man
ever loved a woman. And that I've counted
the minutes all day until I could get here
and see you and talk to you and kiss you — "
She melted against him, could no more
have held herself away than she could have
stopped breathing. For a little while they
were one; the fact of their love shut out
everything else, all her fears for him, his
own miserable inability to accept the love
she offered. Then Rosemary broke away, biting her lips
to still their shaking.
"You're not going to put me off that way," she said.
"I'm not going to be sidetracked by loving to have you
hold me and kiss me. Bill, tell me what it is, why you're
going—"
He made himself laugh, as if the secret were a small
one, made himself say lightly, "Come on, it's late. We're
going to dinner, we're going to pick up our pictures, we're
going to have fun — "
"Fun! When you won't tell me — "
"Come on. Get your coat — " Then he got it for her
and she let him put it on her because his arms came with
it for a moment. "Hat next. Gloves — no, never mind your
other glove. I'll put your hand in my pocket and keep it
warm. We've got to get some place before it closes."
Dr. Jim
(Charles
"BLESS THIS RING"
"What place? Why? Bill—"
He maneuvered her, laughing and protesting, out of the
office, into the street. They passed a few doors, turned into
a still lighted shop.
"Why it's Smith's!" she exclaimed. "Whatever — ? Good
evening, Mr. Smith."
Pete Smith came forward, beaming at her over the cases
of watches and rings. He had a special place in his heart
for the Dawson girls, a very special place for their mother,
Susy.
"I want a ring for Rosemary," Bill said. "The very best
and most beautiful solitaire you have."
"Bill!" she gasped. "You mustn't! I won't let you — "
"Well, now — " The old man was flustered. "I'll be glad
to show you . . . only it isn't often anyone comes in and
asks for the best I have. Usually young folks are buying
on a budget."
"So are we," said Rosemary firmly. "For that matter, I
hadn't even thought of a ring—" .
"I have," said Bill. "And we're not on a budget, not
when it comes to Rosemary's ring."
"Well, now — " He slid back the showcase door, closed it
again, turned to the safe behind him. "I have here some-
thing very beautiful that was left with me to sell. Only
thing is, the price — "
Rosemary caught her breath at the flashing stone that
was set down on the square of black velvet before her.
Bill was watching her closely. "Like it?" he asked.
"Like it! It's simply gorgeous — but not for me! Why,
it must be two carats, at least!"
"I believe it is," Mr. Smith agreed. "And it has a happy
history. The lady who brought it in said she was very
happy wearing it, and that she hoped that whoever bought
it would be very happy, too."
Bill slipped it on her finger. "It's your ring," he said.
"It's perfect for you. I won't let you have any other."
Rosemary didn't believe it at first. She felt a little as if
Bill had shown her Buckingham Palace and had told her
that he was buying it for her to live in. When she did
believe it, she protested vehemently, and in vain. Bill and
Mr. Smith retired to the back room to settle the business
end of the sale; Rosemary was left alone with her ring.
It flashed at her through a dazzling mist. Her eyes were
wet; her throat ached unbearably. That Bill cared so much
for her, wanted so much for her . . . and
then the mist cleared. The ring meant
something — it was more than an engage-
ment ring. With it, Bill was trying to tell
her something, something he couldn't put
into words. He was asking her to believe in
him, to take on faith the answers to all her
questions, to understand that, no matter
what happened, their love was as change-
less as the imperishable stone.
"Bill," she asked as they left the shop,
"if for any reason you were going to stay
away from me for a length of time, you'd
tell me, wouldn't you?"
"I never want to stay away from you for
a single minute, Rosemary. You know
that."
He spoke soberly, and her heart quick-
ened at the words, at the tenderness in his
voice. But her question remained un-
answered. She persisted.
"I know that, but you're not answering
me, Bill. Can't you answer? Why?"
"Because I don't know, Rosemary," he
"I don't know what will be the result of
Cotter
Penman)
said patiently,
the trip—"
"But whatever it is, you'll come straight back here and
tell me about it, won't you?"
"Rosemary, how can I tell how I'll act, when I don't
know what restoring my memory will do to me? No-
body knows what's ahead of me — ahead of us. All I know
is that I have this moment — now — to be with you, to be
happy with you, to forget what may or what may not
come. Rosemary — " He stopped, looked down into her
face under the street light. Again she felt him trying to
reach her, felt the unspoken plea. "Help me, Rosemary,"
he said, "to be happy this moment. Darling, help me to get
all that I can out of right now — "
Her hand was cradled in his inside his overcoat pocket.
Her thumb moved, touched the ring as she would touch a
BLESS THIS RING"
talisman. The touch of it brought instant reassurance.
"Oh, yes, Bill," she said. "Of course I will. And I won't
beg you any more to take me with you. I won't say another
word about it. We'll just be happy now, enough for all the
rest of our time. You know that's what I want to do more
than anything else."
They called it their perfect night. The proofs of the
pictures they'd had taken the night before at the little
shop near the station so delighted them that they granted
the photographer his dearest wish, and allowed themselves
to be snapped in his property automobile, with Rosemary
dangling her hand over the side so that her ring would
show. They took running slides, like children, on an icy
patch of sidewalk, and arrived breathless and glowing
at their rendezvous, the Wishing Well.
Bill's hand sought hers across the table. "I love sitting
across the table from you," he said in a low voice. "I love
the shape of your face, and the shadow of your lashes on
your cheeks. I love your mouth — you have the most
irresistible mouth — "
"Don't," said Rosemary. She tried to pull her hand away,
but he held it fast. "Darling, if you don't stop saying things
like that, I'll get up right here in the middle of the res-
taurant and sit on your knee. Besides, it only makes the
waiting harder. Why do we have to wait at all, Bill?
When we're so sure of ourselves, of each other. . . ."
She could have added, "I'm still afraid; I'm terrified.
Not of loving you, no matter what your past has been.
I've never been afraid of that. No, it's being separated
from you that terrifies me — "
Bill said reasonably, "It shouldn't. Because we are sure
is the very reason it won't hurt us to wait until I've had
a little more time to find out who I really am."
He'd used exactly the right words. She felt calmer, at
peace. And when they left the Wishing Well and stepped
into a world of softly drifting white, she caught Bill's arm,
halting him. Together they stared up into the powdery sky.
"I love snow," said Rosemary. "It's so pure — so perfect.
On a night like this it's hard to believe that anything can
go wrong in the world, for anyone."
"I love your mind," he said. "It's like a child's — so clear
and fine and unspoiled." After a moment he added, "It's
too beautiful out for us to go home. Let's go coasting —
commandeer Patti's sled. My brother and I used to — "
He stopped. Rosemary held her breath,
waiting. "Yes, Bill. You and your brother
used to — " r
"He had a bob-sled," Bill said slowly.
"He used to teach me to steer. His name
was — was — "
"Go on," said Rosemary tensely. "His
name — "
Bill shook his head. "It's gone. But I
can see him steering that sled — my big
brother. Golly, Rosemary, this is the first
time that a person has come so clear to
me!"
Nothing better could happen, Rosemary
thought — not in that one night. Joyce's
future was settled; she herself had her
ring, concrete symbol of the bond between
Bill and her, and now this fragment had
come out of Bill's past, more promising
than any of the others.
Much later, after they'd reached home,
after Bill had gone to his room off the
kitchen, she couldn't sleep for thinking
about the enchanted hours behind her.
Patti was with her, curled up on the foot of her bed,
looking every inch the high school girl she was, in pajamas
and with a matching bow tied in her long, curly bob.
Patti was in raptures over the ring. Aside from its size
and beauty, it made Rosemary's marriage seem imminent,
and Patti did not side with her mother and Dr. Jim and
Bill himself in feeling that the marriage ought to be put off.
"Oh, Rosemary," she cried. "Isn't Bill just utterly
devastating? I mean, to think of getting a ring like that!
I'm really being awfully unselfish in giving him up to you."
"Yes, you are, baby," said Rosemary tenderly, "and don't
think I don't appreciate it."
Patti gave her a suspicious sidelong glance. "Oh, I know
you're laughing at me inwardly, but after all, I did fall
in love with him first. And I just didn't try to get him
when I saw he meant your whole life. I still think he's
Patti Dawson
(Patsy Campbell)
- Isn't that the tele-
"It is.
Peter Harvey
(Sidney Smith)
exactly the right type for
me. I mean, he just dis-
turbs me to the depths of
my soul. He's so utterly
romantic looking — sort of
wistful."
Rosemary laughed. "I
don't think he looked so
wistful tonight when he
was throwing snowballs '!<"
down my neck on Ander-
son's Hill."
Patti gazed at her round-
eyed, reproachful. "Rose-
mary, sometimes I think
you just don't appreciate the finer-
phone?"
Rosemary listened, and swung her feet to the floor.
How funny at this time of night — "
Bill and her mother had heard it, too, but Rosemary
reached the telephone first. It took a moment for her to
recognize the voice that came over the wire, so changed
was it from when she had last heard it.
"Rosemary — Rosemary — " It was Joyce. "Sorrothing
terrible has happened — "
Patti waited as long as she could bear to wait. She heard
her sister's shocked exclamation, but the rest of the one-
sided conversation told her nothing. "It's Joyce, isn't it?"
she whispered at Rosemary's elbow. "What does she say,
Rosemary? Mother, Bill, It's Joyce, and I think she's
crying — "
Rosemary put down the telephone and turned to face
them. "Emily Phillips was killed in an accident on the
Coast," she said. "Her car went over a cliff."
Patti was the first to break the shocked silence that fol-
lowed. "Well, what does Joyce care about that?" she
demanded. "Doesn't that make things simpler?"
"Patti!" Her mother's voice was heavy with warning.
"Who was killed?" Bill asked.
"Emily Phillips," Rosemary repeated. "Dick Phillips'
wife — Dick's the man Joyce was — is — going to marry. I've
got to go to her, Bill, and I think I'd better spend the night.
Joyce is in a terrible state. You see, Dick didn't even tell
Joyce about it as soon as it happened. He made all the
arrangements to go to the Coast, had a car
drive him to the junction, and didn't call
Joyce until he was at the junction waiting
. for a train. She feels — she can't help
feeling — that he's simply turned his back
on her , . . gone back to Emily."
Dr. Jim Cotter heard about it the next
morning he dropped in for an early cup of
coffee in the Dawson kitchen. He sipped
his coffee and listened with somber eyes
while Mrs. Dawson talked.
"You don't know any details, Susy, ex-
cept that Emily was alone in the car when
it happened?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No, Bill took
Rosemary over to Joyce last night, and
that's all he knew when he came back.
Whatever you're thinking, Jim, don't say
it, for Joycey's sake."
"All right, I won't — but I'll think it.
Susy. Knowing how Emily felt about
Dick, knowing that her life practically
ended when she parted from him-. . . .
Rosemary's still with Joyce?"
"Yes," she answered. "Why?"
"I was just thinking. I'm ready to leave for Chicago any
time Bill wants to go. This might be a good time, with
Rosemary absorbed in Joyce's troubles."
"Oh, Jim!" She stared at him across the table, her eyes
dark with indecision. "I don't know what to say. It's so
difficult for me to decide to part them."
"I know, Susy. But you can see for yourself they're
falling more in love every day — and he can't marry Rose-
mary until he knows who he is and what his obligations
are. He wouldn't want to, and he mustn't. I think I'll talk
to him right now."
"I'll call him. He's in the dining room, having breakfast
with Patti." She got up and went to the swinging door
that separated the rooms and paused there, her hand on
the glass panel, her head bowed. (Continued on page 351
09
70
All Times Below Are EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
For Correct CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME, Subtract One Hour
^E9 B*MFI^n
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Earl Wild
Carolina Calling
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story to Order
Words and Music
People's Church
Tone Tapestries
White Rabbit Line
News
Renfro Valley Folks
Trinity Choir ot
St. Paul's Chapel
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Bible Highlights
Voices Down The
Wind
Radio Bible Class
Voice of Prophecy
Message of Israel
Southernaires
Church of the Air
Church of the Air
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
News Highlights
Solitaire Time
Christian Reform
Church
Reviewing Stand
Fine Arts Quartette
Hour of Faith
Negro College Choir
Salt Lake Tabernacle
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
World Front News
Eternal Light
Pilgrim Hour
Lutheran Hour
Texas Jim Robertson
On Trial
Invitation to Learning
People's Platform
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
America United
Chicago Round Table
William L. Shirer
American Radio
Warblers
Stan Lomax
Sam Pettengill
Stewart Alsop, News
National Vespers
Doorway To Life
Tell It Again
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Musical Program
Robert Merrill
Army Air Force
Show
Bill Cunningham
Veteran's Information
This Week Around
the World
Mr. President,
Drama
CBS Is There
Joseph C. Harsch
Elmo Roper
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Eddy Howard
One Man's Family
Ernie Lee's Omega
Show
Juvenile Jury
Lassie Drama
The Almanac
Sammy Kaye
CBS Symphony
Orch.
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
The Quiz Kids
News
Living — 1948
House of Mystery
True Detective
Speak Up America
Thinking Allowed
Eileen Farrell
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
Ford Show
The Shadow
Quick As A Flash
Treasury Agent
David Harding
Janette Davis
Here's to You
Hour of Charm
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
The Catholic Hour
Hollywood Star
Preview
Those Websters
Nick Carter
Drew Pearson
Don Gardner
Greatest Story Ever
Told
Family Hour
Percy Faith
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Jack Benny
Band Wagon
Sherlock Holmes
Behind the Front
Page
1 Love Adventure
The Clock
Gene Autry
Blondie
8
8
8
8
00
15
30
55
Robert Shaw's
Chorale
Fred Allen
A. L. Alexander
Jimmie Fuller
Billy Rose
Stop the Music
Sam Spade
Man Called X
9
9
9
9
00
15
30
45
Manhattan Merry-
Go-Round
American Album
Meet Me at Parky's
Jim Backus Show
Walter Winchell
Louella Parsons
Theatre Guild
Strike It Rich
10
10
10
00
15
30
Take It or Leave It
Horace Heidt
Voice of Strings
Latin American
Serenade
Jimmie Fidler
Shorty Bell with
Mickey Rooney
Escape
MICHAEL RAFFETTO is a mem-
ber of the California Bar Association
and of the cast of One Man's Family.
EVE YOUNG wn0 is heard as the
singing bridesmaid on NBC's Honey-
moon in New York, Mondays through
Fridays at 9:00 A.M.,EDT, comes from
a musical family. Sbe has two sisters
and six brothers, all of whom sing and
most of whom can play several instru-
ments. Eve acquired her singing ex-
perience with Joe Reichman's Band.
w*m n
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC .
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Jack Almand Trio
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in New
York
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Oklahoma Roundup
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Evelyn Winters
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Kate's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Bill Harrington
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness ot Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Service Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Luncheon With Lopez
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15.
Happy Ganq
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Today's Children
Queen For A Day
Maqgi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Woman in White
Perry Mason
2:30
The Story of Holly
Sloan
Martin Block Show
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Rose of My Dreams
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ladies Be Seated
Double or Nothing
3:15
Ma Perkins
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
Paul Whiteman Club
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Misc. Programs
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take AH
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Harold Turner
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Dick Tracy
Liberty Road
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Superman
Terry and Pirates
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Captain Midnight
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
In My Opinion
The Chicagoans
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Mary Osborn Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
The Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith
Bob Crosby Show
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Cavalcade of America
Voice of Firestone
The Falcon
Charlie Chan
Billy Rose
Point Sublime
Sound Off
Inner Sanctum
Talent Scouts
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Telephone Hour
Dr. 1. Q.
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Quiet Please
On Stage America
Sammy Kaye
Lux Radio Theater
10:00
10:15
10:30
Contented Program
Fred Waring
Fishing and Hunting
Club
Dance Orch.
Arthur Gaeth
Earl Godwin
My Friend Irma
Screen Guild Players
RUSS EMERY started his singing
career after graduating from high
school in Pawtucket, R. I. He enlisted
in the U. S. Marine Corps and saw ac-
tive service at Guadalcanal. Solomon
Islands, Guam and the Marianas. Af-
ter the war he sang with Dick Stabile's
orchestra. He's now heard on Herd's
To You, Sundays, 5:15 P.M.. EDT.
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
8:45
Jack Almand Trio
9:00
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Editor's Diary
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
9:15
Ozark Valley Folks
Oklahoma Roundup
9:30
Clevelandaires
9:45
Nelson Olmsted
10:00
Fred Waring
Cecil Brown
My True Story
Music For You
10:15
Faith In Our Time
10:30
Road of Lite
Say It With Music
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine Of The Air
Evelyn Winters
10:45
Joyce Jordan
Listening Post
David Harum
11:00
This Is Nora Drake
Bill Harrington
Bkfst in H'wood
Arthur Godfrey
11:15
Kate's Daughter
Tell Your Neighbor
11:30
Jack Berch
Heart's Desire
Galen Drake
Grand Slam
11:45
Lora Lawton
Ted Malone
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
C3S
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
News
The Trumpeteers
Jack Almand Trio
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Oklahoma Roundup
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Club Time
Music For You
Evelyn Winters
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This is Nora Drake
Kate's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Bill Harrington
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Art Van Damme
Quartet
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Today's Children
Voman in White
?tory of Holly Sloan
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Martin Block Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Rose of My Dreams
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Double or Nothing
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Harold Turner
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Superman
Capt. Midnight
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Tales of Adventure
Treasury Bandstand
Lum 'n' Abner
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness ot Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Marine Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
NBC Concert Orch.
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
The Guidinq Light
Jamboree
2:00
Today's Children
Queen For A Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Woman in White
Perry Mason
2:30
Story of Holly
Sloan
The Martin Block
Show
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Rose ot My Dreams
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ladies Be Seated
Double Or Nothing
3:15
Ma Perkins
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
Paul Whiteman Club
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
The Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Harold Turner
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Dick Tracy
March of Science
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Superman
Terry and Pirates
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Captain Midnight
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
5:45 |Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Talks
The Chicagoans
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Adrian Rollini Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Arthur Gaeth
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith
Bob Crosby Show
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Dennis Day
Encore Theater
High Adventure
Silly Rose
Mayor of The Town
Vox Pop
American Melody
Hour
Dr. Christian
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Duffy's Tavern
Mr. District Attorney
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Racket Smashers
Abbott and Costello
Go For the House
Mark Warnow
Harvest of Stars
with James Melton
10:00
10:15
10:30
The Big Story
Jimmy Durante
Opinion-Aire
California Melodies
Comedy Writers
Show
Gordon MacRae
The Whistler
Open Hearing
6:00
John MacVane
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Frontiers of Science
6:30
Local Programs
The Chicagoans
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Alvin Heifer
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith
7:30
Lennie Herman
Quintet
Newscope
Green Hornet Drama
Bob Crosby Show
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Dina1! Shore, Harry
Jimes and Johnny
Mysterious Traveler
Youth Asks the
Government
Big Town
8:15 Mercer
Edwin D. Cantham
8:30
A Date With Judy
Official Detective
America's Town
Mr. and Mrs. North
8:55
Billy Rose
Meeting of the Air
9:00
Amos 'n' Andy
Gabriel Heatter
We, The People
9:15
Radio Newsreel
Boston Pops Orch.
9:30
Fibber McGee and
Zane Grey
Christopher Wells
9:45
Molly
10:00
Bob Hope
Let Freedom Ring
Studio One
10:15
10:30
Red Skelton
Dance Orchestra
It's In The Family
71
H9I iJKBMHNH|HB
31UKJ
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Jack Almand Trio
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Oklahoma Roundup
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Dorothy Kilgallen
Music for You
Evelyn Winters
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Katie's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Bill Harrington
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
ARLENE FRANCIS -was reared in a
stimulating family environment — her
father is the well-known portrait photog-
rapher Aram Kazanjian, and her uncle
is a Harvard professor. Arlehe was
m.c.on Phil Spitalny's all-girl orchestra
for 39 weeks. She was the first wo-
man ever permitted to announce the
name of the network at the station
hreak. She's on the air with Ben Grauer,
Sundays at 9:00 P.M., EDT, on ABC.
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Service Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Art Van Damme
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Quartet
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Today's Children
Queen for a Day
Maggi McNeills
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Woman in White
Perry Mason
2:30
Story of Holly Sloan
Martin Block Show
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Rose of My Dreams
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ladies Be Seated
Double or Nothing
3:15
Ma Perkins
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
Paul Whiteman Club
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Harold Turner
5:00
When a Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Dick Tracy
Gateways to Music
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Superman
Terry and Pirates
5:30
5:45
Just Plain Bill
Captain Midnight
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Of Men and Books
6:30
Local Program
Local Programs
The Chicagoans
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Alvin Heifer
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith
7:30
Lawrence Welk
Newscope
Henry Morgan Show
Bob Crosby Show
7:45
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Aldrich Family
Revere Revue
Front Page
The F.B.I, in Peace
8:15
Background For
Stardom
and War
8:30
Geo. Burns and
Gracie Allen
Talent Hunt
Ellery Queen
Mr. Keen
8:55
Billy Rose
9:00
Al Jolson
Gabriel Heatter
Willie Piper
Dick Haynies
9:15
Radio Newsreel
9:30
Jack Carson and
RFD America
Candid Microphone
Crime Photographer
9:45
Eve Arden
10:00
Bob Hawk Show
Family Theatre
Child's World
Reader's Digest
10:15
Radio Edition
10:30
Eddie Cantor
The First Nighter
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Jack Almand Trio
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Oklahoma Roundup
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
The Listening Post
Music for You
Evelyn Winters
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Katie's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Bill Harrington
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Campus Salute
Welcome travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
U. S. Marine Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
V
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Today's Children
Woman in White
Story of Holly Sloan
Light of the World
Queen for a Day
Martin Block Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This is Nora Drake
Rose of My Dreams
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Double or Nothing
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Harold Turner
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When a Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Superman
Captain Midnight
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Opinion Please
Treasury Bandstand
Lum V Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
ROBERT SHAW -left Pomona C„
lege, California, in 1938 to direct the
Fred Waring Glee Club and remained
with Waring until 1945. During that
period, he also directed a choral group
for Billy Rose's Aquacade at the New
York World's Fair in 1939 and 1940.
He is choral director for RCA-Victor
and for the Juilliard School of Music
in New York. Listen to his superb
Robert Shaw Chorale (30 voices) on
Sundays at 8:00 P.M., EDT, on NBC
6:t)0
News
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Local Programs
Report from the
United Nations
6:30
Songs By Jean
McKenna
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Alvin Heifer
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith
7:30
Mary Osborne Trio
Henry J. Taylor
Lone Ranger
Bob Crosby Show
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Highways in Melody
Burl Ives
The Fat Man
Mr. Ace and Jane
8:15
Alan Dale Show
8:30
Can You Top This
Leave It to the Girls
This Is Your FBI
Danny Thomas
8:55
Billy Rose
9:00
People Are Funny
Gabriel Heatter
Break the Bank
Morgan, Ameche.
9:15
Radio Newsreel
Langford
9:30
Waltz Time
Information Please
The Sheriff
Adventures of Ozzie
9:45
and Harriet
10:00 1 Mystery Theater
Meet the Press
Boxing Bouts
Dinah Shore- Harry
10:15
James Show
10:30
Sports
Tex Beneke
Spotlight Revue
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story Shop
Mind Your Manners
Robert Hurlcigh
Practical Gardner
Shoppers Special
CBS News of America
Songs for You
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Frank Merriwell
Archie Andrews
Dixie Four Quartet
Ozark Valley Folks
Hollywood Headlines
Saturday Strings
The Garden Gate
Washington Wives
Mary Lee Taylor
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
Meet the Meeks
Smilin' Ed McConnell
Movie Matinee
Teen Timer's Club
Abbott and Costello
Land of the Lost
Let's Pretend
Junior Miss
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Arthur Barriault
Public Affairs
Coffee With Congress
Misc. Programs
This Week in Wash-
ington
Pro Arte Quartet
Junior Junction
American Farmer
Theatre of Today
Stars Over Hollywood
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Nat'l Farm Home
Edmond Tomlinson
Report From Europe
Luncheon at Sardi's
Symphonies for
Youth
Maggi McNeills,
Herb Sheldon
Speaking of Songs
Grand Central Sta.
County Fair
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Music For The
Moment
Salute to Veterans
Fascinating Rhythm
Hitching Post Variety
Give and Take
Country Journal
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Orchestras of the
Nation
Hospitality Club
Sports Parade
Piano Playhouse
ABC Symphony
Orch.
Report from Overseas
Adventures in
Science
Cross-Section U.S.A.
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Doctors Today
First Piano Quartet
Horse Race
Charles Slocum
First Church of
Christ Science
Sports in Review
Sports Broadcasts
Make Way For
Youth
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
Swanee River Boys
Three Suns Trio
Dr. I. Q. Jr.
King Cole Trio
Lone Wolf
True or False
Treasury Band Show
Melodies to Remem-
ber
Dorothy Guldheim
Local Programs
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Peter Roberts
Religion in the News
NBC Symphony
Dance Orchestra
Vagabonds' Quartet
Bible Messages
Harry Wismer
Jack Beall
News from Wash-
ington
In My Opinion
Red Barber Sports
Show
Larry Lesueur
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Curtain Time
Hawaii Calls
Newscope
Twin Views of the
News
Quisdom Class
Challenge of the
Yukon
Mr. Ace and Jane
Abe Burrows
Hoagy Carmichael
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:45
Life of Riley
Truth or Conse-
quences
Twenty Questions
Stop Me If You've
Heard This One
Ross Dolan,
Detective
Famous Jury Trials
Robert Montgomery.
Suspense
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Your Hit Parade
Judy Canova Show
Keeping Up With
the Kids
What's the Name
of That Song
Gangbusters
The Amazing Mr.
Malone
Joan Davis Time
Vaughn Monroe
10:00
10:15
10:30
Kav Kyser
Grand Ole Opry
Theater of the Air
Professor Quiz
Hayloft Hoedown
Saturday Night
Serenade
It Pays To Be
Ignorant
ROBERT Q. LEWIS— brightens
afternoon listening five days a week
with spontaneous humor and variety
on CBS at 5:00 P.M, EDT. Bob's
greatest source of humorous situations
and gags is newspapers. His philoso-
phy— "if you aren't versed in a subject,
say so . . . you'll get along better that
way, especially during radio inter-
views" His hobby is collecting Indian
totem poles He has 24 so far.
The Sparton 1003 radio-
phonograph combination.
Finding a radio-phono-
graph combination to
go into an Early Ameri-
can room is a bit of a
problem unless you've al-
ready seen Sparton's Early
American chest in mahog-
any veneer. Opening the
doors of the Sparton Model
1003, you'll find an AM-FM
radio, an automatic record
player and twin matched
speakers. There's also
ample storage space for
record albums.
All-purpose Recordio Towne:
about
If you've been building
your record collection at a
fast pace, try the Peerless
Visible Index Album. The
titles of the records in the
album are written or typed
on a ruled strip so that the
contents can be seen at a
glance. The index is under
cellophane and can be
easily removed. An extra
ruled strip is supplied with
every album. 10-inch al-
bum is $2.00, 12-inch, $2.20.
Each holds 12 records.
A Sentinel Midget, for
that important extra.
Again the Sparton 1003,
being Early American.
Making your own rec-
ords, either of your fa-
vorite radio program or
your own voice, can be a
fascinating hobby. A
home recorder that is
also combined with a
record player, an AM-
FM radio and a beautiful
bleached mahogany
cabinet, is the Recordio
Towne. This set records
on discs and features
push button selection of
program or recorder.
The Peerless Visible
Index Album tells all.
A modestly priced
small radio that is perfect
for that "extra set" use
in bedroom, guest room
or kitchen, is the Sentinel
model 314-E. This midget
is actually an AC-DC
superheterodyne set with
a built-in aerial. It con-
tains a 5-inch speaker
and comes in a stream-
lined ebony bakelite cab-
inet. It's quite low priced,
which makes it even bet-
ter.
73
Is Lou Costello on the Level?
the kids," executive director Felix
Gomez told me. "His temperament is
just suited for them. He seems to have
as good a time as they when he is with
them. He gets out on the field and plays
ball with them, goes on the merry-go-
round with them, pushes them in the
swings, holds them in his arms, rubs
noses with them. The truth is that they
never regard him as their benefactor.
They look on him more as a good-
natured, playful big brother."
The letterhead of the Lou Costello
Junior Youth Foundation boasts mighty
impressive nomenclature — Costello is
there as president, and his sidekick,
Bud Abbott right behind as secretary-
treasurer. Judge Samuel R. Blake, who
presided for many years over the Los
Angeles Juvenile Court, is listed as
vice-president; Judge William B. Mc-
Kesson, a member of the California
Youth Authority and another former
Juvenile Court jurist, is down as second
vice-president.
Judges, police officials, educators, re-
ligious leaders, public office holders
and important civic figures are on the
roster as directors and advisory board
members.
In spite of the attacks on Costello,
they've all remained. The rumors
have failed to produce one resignation
from the ranks!
Two pertinent questions should be
asked: How did Lou Costello get into
this? What has he gotten out of it?
Costello did not conceive of the
Youth Foundation, as is commonly
supposed, out of grief for his son, Lou
Costello, Jr., who drowned at the age
of one in October 1943 in the family
swimming pool in San Fernando Val-
ley. The idea had been born before
the tragedy — in a bed of pain.
In March of 1943, Lou Costello was
a very sick man. Rheumatic fever con-
fined him to bed. Hundreds of letters
from young fans, many suffering the
same ailment, piled up. When the
acute pain abated somewhat, Lou read
the mail from the kids. He confessed to
Bud Abbott the straight man of the
comedy team, how deeply he had been
touched. He wanted to show his ap-
preciation. Why not open a lavish
community recreation center for kids?
Seven months later — in October —
Lou was able to get out of bed for the
first time since he had been stricken.
Throughout his convalescence, he had
broadened plans for a youth center.
(Continued from page 39)
The day the barrel-bodied laugh-
maker left his bed was the day that
his son drowned.
Many in their despair would have
forsaken the youth project. Costello
was more determined than ever. Abbott
tried to comfort his partner. He sug-
gested naming the projected foundation
after Lou Costello Junior.
"It would be a living memorial to
the boy," Bud said.
That's how Costello got into youth
work. That's how the institution got
its name.
What has he gotten out of it?
Many things. Fun, without doubt.
For it is no hardship for Costello to
be among kids. He loves them. Satis-
faction, plenty of it. What man
wouldn't surge with pride to see a
grand scheme conceived in illness grow
into a pulsing reality covering three
city acres? Bills, loads of them. Ask
the men who keep the books. Problems,
too, by the dozens.
And publicity, to be sure. Without
publicity no such endeavor could hope
to carry on effectively. The foundation
thrives on publicity, and since it
carries Lou's name there is no way
short of mock modesty that he can
avoid sharing in it.
Six months after the vast recreation
and character building center opened
its doors, the Los Angeles Police De-
partment announced a 17 per cent de-
crease in juvenile delinquency for the
area served by the foundation.
In Hollywood recently, a national
charity in no way connected with the
youth foundation, held a meeting
among figures prominent in the film
city and called for pledges. A re-
nowned entertainer jumped out of his
seat and yelled, "I will raise a million
dollars for the fund."
"I don't want to know what you're
going to raise," the chairman said. "I
want to know what you're going to
give."
Lou Costello measures up to that
blunt yardstick. He and Bud Abbott
have done more than barnstorm the
country raising funds for the youth
foundation. They have contributed
funds. Gotten them up out of their
own pockets.
Seventy-five per cent of the $350,000
that erected the main building, swim-
ming pool and playing fields of the
foundation came from Abbott and Cos-
tello's own purses.
How Does a Wife Feel When She Sees Her
Husband Leap to His Death?
Hear Lorraine Rhodes' Dramatic Story on the
June 15th Broadcast of
•V
74
"WE THE PEOPLE
The program of true experiences of real people
9:00 p.m. EDST CSS
Read the whole, heart-stopping "I WATCHED MY HUSBAND DIE"
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They rolled up their sleeves and laid
down their greenbacks. They scoured
vast Los Angeles from one end to the
other for months before they found a
suitable site in the teeming Hollenbeck-
Boyle Heights section, sore spot of the
city's substandard east side. There
was where the need and the challenge
were greatest. There poverty and
minority identity were sending hun-
dreds of children daily into the lists of
the delinquent. There property own-
ers were suffering the greatest damage
from vandalism. There heartbroken
parents were suffering greatest damage
from wayward offspring.
There the cry of anguish was heard
louder than anywhere else in the City
of Angels. Crime and accident were
taking an enormous daily toll among
the young. Amidst taut group tensions,
in common poverty and squalor, eigh-
teen nationalities lived side by side,
among them youngsters of Mexican,
Japanese, Chinese, Filipino, Negro,
Spanish, Russian, English, Italian,
Armenian and English origin.
If the public, accustomed to hit-and-
run philanthropists who snip a tape at
a widely hailed dedication or dig up a
shovel full of dirt at a cornerstone
planting while newsreel cameras grind,
is given to skepticism, it cannot be
blamed.
Costello was no fair weather bene-
factor. He came to dedicate, true, but
he remained to sweat and serve and
subsidize. Keeping the foundation
going for the past two years has kept
Costello one step ahead of the sheriff.
To meet the obligations he assumed,
he has had to take on such an inten-
sive work schedule that his doctors
refuse to be responsible for the con-
sequences.
Not only does Costello believe in the
work of the foundation. He lives it,
breathes it, and, no doubt, dreams it.
It is out of Costello's own thinking
that the foundation inscribed for all
to see its democratic purpose:
"All who come here have been cre-
ated equal, and will be given equal
privileges regardless of race, color or
creed."
Nor is this an empty statement of
philosophy. No more polyglot group
lives so harmoniously under one roof
anywhere. The institution is run
strictly along lines of democratic self-
government. The children enact and
enforce their own rules. They run the
foundation like a little city. They hold
elections for posts on the junior board
of directors, for mayor, common
council, prosecuting attorney, city
judge, business manager and treasurer.
For many months the foundation's
future was in doubt. Costello's funds
had run low. Financial support from
the general public had been disap-
pointing. Aware of the comedian's
plight, several well known organized
charities offered repeatedly to take
over the financial obligations of the
foundation. Representatives of these
groups pleaded with Costello that it
was too much of a burden for him to
bear by himself. They assured him that
the operation, name and principles of
the foundation would not be changed.
Here was an easy, honorable way out
for Costello, but he rejected it flatly.
His business manager and friends
tried to persuade him to reconsider.
Costello blew his top. "You can all quit
anytime you like," (.Cont'd on page 76)
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{Continued from page 74) he roared,
"but I'm not quitting. I started this
thing and I'm going to see it through if
it costs me my last cent."
Nobody quit.
A dream of four years — a radio pro-
gram fighting juvenile delinquency by
glorifying democracy and good citizen-
ship— was realized in December, '47
when ABC donated a coast-to-coast half
hour every Saturday morning for The
Abbott and Costello Kid Show.
Format of this program was worked
out by Lou and his bulky, good na-
tured kid-show producer and writer,
Ed Forman, four years earlier when
a cigarette company was sponsoring
The Abbott and Costello Show. While
the comedians were playing an Army
camp in Tucson, Arizona, Lou and
Forman developed the details.
Costello couldn't wait to get going.
But the sponsor vetoed the package.
The company did not want to court
public wrath by permitting a children's
program to be associated with ciga-
rettes.
When Abbott and Costello moved
over to ABC in 1947 on a cooperatively
sponsored transcontinental half hour
show Wednesday evenings, Costello re-
vived the kid show idea.
Costello, Forman and ABC West
Coast officials, J. Donald Wilson and
Bud Edwards, met at Costello's Holly-
wood home. The ABC emissaries
snapped up the project as a public
service.
Lou came to the studios early and
remained late so that he could spend
more time with the children. He
walked up and down the aisles, scoop-
ing infants into his arms, playing with
the kids, joking with them and con-
versing with them, beaming all the
time with unashamed pleasure. He did
these things, mind you, when there
was not a reporter or cameraman with-
in miles of the studio.
Several months after the kid show
made its debut, a candy company con-
sidered sponsoring the program. Ab-
bott and Costello recorded a sample
commercial for the prospective client.
Costello stepped to the footlights.
"Folks," he said, "I want you to
know that if this show gets a sponsor,
Abbott and I will turn over our entire
share to the Lou Costello Junior Youth
Foundation."
That was not a grandstand play. It
is a standing offer.
Up to now the candy deal has not
materialized. There have been other
bids by sponsors, but Lou has turned
them down because they have de-
manded changes in the format. Lou
will not sell the show unless he gets
contractual assurance that the two
spots of particular interest to children
remain intact.
These are the "Bubble or Nothing"
quiz and the Lou Costello Junior Youth
Foundation weekly award for good
citizenship and heroism.
To raise sorely needed funds for the
foundation, and to extend its work to
other cities throughout the country, the
kid show launched a super-giveaway
contest in February. A live baby ele-
phant, a four-seater airplane, an auto-
mobile, a house trailer and a mink coat
were among the avalanche of prizes
exceeding $30,000 in value which were
dangled to encourage letters, with or
without donations, beginning with the
sentence, "I want to help fight juvenile
delinquency because. . . ."
Ed Forman was excited over the
contest's fund-raising potentialities.
Costello was loath to rely too much
upon it.
"You'll be surprised," Forman told
Costello, "at how many letters there
will be with contributions of $25 and
over."
Costello bit at the end of his cigar.
"I'll tell you what, Ed," he said. "You
show me any contribution for $25 or
more, and I'll match it."
I checked with Forman to learn if
Costello had taken his promise seri-
ously.
"As a matter of fact," Forman en-
lightened me, "I had forgotten about it,
and Lou reminded me. He has equalled
every donation of $25 or more."
Costello could live comfortably on
income from testimonials and record-
ings alone if he did not channel these
funds to the foundation.
To quote a contemporary from the
public prints:
"Lou Costello ... is running a Youth
Foundation in this town that is doing
wonders for underprivileged kids. Lou
is not running this joint for publicity.
It has cost him a young fortune. As
a matter of fact, the expenses are so
tremendous at the moment that he can-
not pack the load alone and the place
is in the process of folding. If that
happened it would be a disgrace to the
citizens of this community."
It hasn't happened, and will not
happen, and the community is not in
disgrace. But what is possibly more
significant is that these are words from
the typewriter of the same columnist
who turned on Lou a month later.
Is Lou Costello on the level? What
do you think?
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Bride and Groom
chosen as a candidate is only the first
of many steps. After that comes a series
of meetings before the committee from
the Tournament of Roses. As the meet-
ings progress, the number of candidates
grows less and less, until finally only
twenty of the most charming and most
intelligent girls are left.
Then comes the final elimination — for
only seven of the final twenty can be
chosen for the royal court, six as prin-
cesses and one for the coveted role of
queen. The odds were high, but
Norma's beauty made the judges' final
decision almost a certainty — and it was
she who was escorted to the Rose
Queen's throne at the Coronation Cere-
mony, a few days before the world-
famous parade of the Tournament of
Roses.
Those were busy days for Queen
Norma — ruling at the Coronation Ball
and other tournament ceremonies, being
guest of honor at social and civic func-
tions, riding on the Tournament of
Roses float in the long and colorful
parade.
W!
[HEN a queen is young and beautiful,
there is no lack of suitors — and
Norma — accompanied by her appointed
chaperone, Mrs. Maude Prickett — was
soon being squired by the town's most
eligible young men. After all, what man
wouldn't like to be seen with a girl who
was the center of all attention, and
whose lovely face seen in newsreels was
evoking admiring "ohs" and "ahs"?
There was one young Pasadena man,
however, who wasn't competing for the
honor of escorting Queen Norma, even
though he could have quite easily ar-
ranged an introduction. He was Donald
Winton, a young sculptor who was un-
der commission by the Tournament of
Roses to make a "portrait in clay" of
the queen at each annual affair.
"I didn't dislike queens," explained
Donald, "but I'd worked with girls who
had been chosen for similar honors at
other events, and — well, sometimes it
changes them. You know, they take the
role of 'Her Highness' too seriously, and
sort of begin to think of the rest of us
as peasants."
That was in Donald's mind the day
he went to Norma's home to keep the
appointment that had been arranged by
the tournament officials. She'd be young
and beautiful, yes, which meant it
would be easy for his talented fingers
to mold an attractive head; but there
was a good chance that she'd also be
hopelessly spoiled, perhaps tempera-
mental, or even unpleasantly conceited.
Answering the door, Norma was also
doing some thinking. The tournament
official had said someone would call to
"do her portrait" — probably an elderly
artist, loaded down with easel and
brushes and paints and temperament.
But when the door opened there was
no elderly artist, no sign of paints or
brushes or easel. Instead, there was a
tall and handsome young man, a
strange-looking crock tucked carelessly
under one arm. Wait a minute — not one
young man but two . . . and so identical
that for a moment Norma wondered if
the hectic activities as queen had af-
fected her eyes.
R The young man introduced himself,
H "I'm Donald Winton, and this is my
brother, Ross." Twin brother, it was
obvious, thought Norma as she invited
them inside.
(Continued from page 51)
Remembering that first meeting, Don
says, "From the moment she greeted us,
I knew that here was no spoiled or con-
ceited girl, but a young lady who was
as lovely a person as she was charming
and beautiful."
Don explained that the "portrait" was
to be in clay, and solved the mystery
of the crock by opening it and taking
out a huge lump of clay with which he
was to model Norma's head. He seemed
strangely silent as he went about mold-
ing the first outlines. Not his twin
brother, though. Ross was frankly ad-
miring as he watched Norma turn her
head this way and that at Don's direc-
tions.
"We kid a lot," he said to Don, "but
if you can capture even one-hundredth
of that beauty in a mass of clay, I'll
personally nominate you as the world's
finest artist!"
Afternoon shadows caused Don to end
the first sitting, but he made arrange-
ments to return the following day. "And
I'll be with him," Ross assured Norma.
And he was with him, not only for
the second sitting, but for the third,
and fourth, and fifth. "It was fun hav-
ing Ross there," says Norma. "Don was
so completely concentrated on the
sculptoring that all he ever said was,
'Hold it, please,' or 'Tilt your head to
the left . . . hold it.' But Ross was a
wonderful conversationalist, and before
long he and I seemed like old friends.
I kept noticing that Don would look at
me strangely, but explained it to myself
by saying he was interested in me only
as a model."
"It might have been easier for my
art — and my heart — if that had been
true," laughed Don. "Instead, I was
falling head over heels in love with her.
Not only because she was undoubtedly
the most beautiful girl I had ever
known, but every minute with her
proved that she was also the nicest."
FINALLY, the "portrait in clay" was
done — done so excellently and with
such feeling that expert judges pro-
nounced it the finest ever done of a
Tournament of Roses queen.
"I thought that would be the end of
our acquaintance," said Norma, "but
Don surprised me by asking if he could
continue the sitting — he wanted to make
a duplicate figure. I think that was the
first hint I had that he was interested
in me other than as a model for his
work. And suddenly I realized some-
thing that I think I'd known all the
time — it was Don, even as busy and
silent as he had been, who had made
me look forward to each day's sitting.
Ross and I were wonderful friends —
but somehow I knew that Don and I
could be more than just friends. I tried
to keep my voice casual as I told him
I'd be glad to sit for another portrait in
clay."
By this time Norma and the twin
brothers were on a very friendly foot-
ing, and each afternoon usually ended
with their driving down to one of the
nearby beaches for a swim in the
Pacific. Such a drive marked the day
on which Don completed the second
portrait in clay- — a portrait even lovelier
than the first. But there was a change
from the usual routine — the twin
brother, Ross, was not with them.
"Ross said he'd be busy this after-
noon," explained Don, "but I thought
maybe you'd accept me as a substitute."
There wasn't anything Norma could
say to that, without revealing her feel-
ings, so she turned their conversation
into casual channels as they drove along
through the late afternoon sunshine.
Finally she asked, "Don, why did you
want another figure? The Tournament
commissioned you to do only one."
Don hesitated for a moment, then said
quietly, "That second one wasn't for the
Tournament. It was for me. You know
the story of the artist who made a statue
so beautiful that he fell in love with
it . . ."
Norma held her breath — then she
hadn't been imagining those things
about Don! She waited for him to go
on, to say what she wanted to hear him
say — words that she knew she could
repeat to him and mean with all her
heart.
Instead, Don forced a little mirthless
laugh, and said, "But don't worry — I
know how it is with the three of us. So
that second figure I made — I'm going to
give it to the man who has the right to
it. I'm going to give it to Ross."
FOR a moment they drove along in
silence, then Norma said very gently,
"Don, do you know why your brother
isn't with us this afternoon?"
"No — he said something about another
appointment and . . ."
"Yes," Norma interrupted him, with
an odd little note of suppressed laughter
in her voice. "An appointment with a
very attractive young lady. The reason
I know is that, for the past two weeks,
he's been asking me to coach him in
what to say to that young lady so that
she'd be as partial to him as he is to
her."
"You mean Ross and you aren't . . ."
Brakes squealed as Don pulled the con-
vertible to a quick stop, and his hand
was tense on her arm as he cried, "But
from the very first I thought you and
Ross . . . why, the way you always
talked together . . . and the fun you
had."
"Of course we had fun, and of course
we talked and laughed," Norma told
him. "I like Ross very much, and he
likes me. But we're pals, Don, not . . .
not what you thought."
Norma laughs when she tells about
that moment. "I tried to go on explain-
ing to Don how it had been from the
first. But he interrupted — interrupted
me in a way that I'd wanted him to . . .
by kissing me."
And when Norma and Don announced
their engagement a few months later,
it was Ross who said, "I wonder if
you two realize how perfect your love
story really is. A beautiful 'queen'
wooed and won by the artist who fell in
love with the model he made of her.
It's so nice a story, I think you ought to
let others share it."
It was an extra-special day at our
studio, the day that Norma became
Don's bride. The beautiful broadcasting
room at the Chapman Park hotel took
on the look of a motion picture studio,
for there were movie cameramen and
television men recording the ceremony
and the program. As one of them said
to me, "You know, I can believe in
things like love and living happily ever
after when I see a bride like that. And
the way those two kids look at each
other — believe me, here's a guy who's
wishing them all the happiness in the
world."
Covering the
Conventions
(Continued from page 37)
alternates — more than a thousand in all
— will sit on the main floor of the vast
auditorium, grouped by states, each
group with its own banner or placard.
The speakers' platform will be spa-
cious because it has to hold a lot of
people at one time or another. A small
forest of microphones will stand before
the rostrum. Overlooking the speakers'
platform will be the glass-enclosed
control booths of the networks and sta-
tions that will broadcast reports of the
big show all over the country.
Each network will have its own staff
under command of its news director.
This year, CBS will have, I suppose,
ten or a dozen correspondents working
under Wells Church, our director of
news. You will hear John Daly fre-
quently; he is a veteran at covering
national political conventions.
OUR Washington staff, headed by its
chief correspondent, Eric Sevareid,
will be at the convention in force, too. I
do not know how many engineers and
other technicians will be required, but
the correspondents will be out-num-
bered several times over by the men
who put and keep them on the air, and
by secretaries, assistants, tabulators
and special workers of many kinds.
Also there will be men on the floor with
mobile equipment to pick up direct
comments from key people and to de-
scribe the demonstrations. Some of
their reports will be relayed to the
booth. Others will go directly on the
air, according to the judgment of the
news director.
All of the networks will have some-
what the same set-up, but each will
operate in its own way.
The confusion and excitement will
begin when the nominating speeches
start. By tradition, the first mention of
a candidate's name in the speech of
nomination sets off a demonstration led
by the delegates of his home state. They
jump up, grab banners, blow horns and
parade around the huge hall behind a
blaring brass band. Delegates from
other states join in. More demonstra-
tors appear from side entrances. Spec-
tators yell and applaud. Confetti rains
down from the galleries. Everybody
lets off steam.
; Take these preliminary uproars with
a grain of salt as part of the fun. Re-
porters will describe to you what is
happening but they and the news ana-
lysts also will tell you whether it is the
real thing or not.
Partly, these demonstrations are per-
sonal compliments to the candidates by
their friends and backers. Partly they
take place because the delegates and
spectators have gotten tried of sitting.
Such a demonstration took place in
the 1944 Republican convention when
Governor (now Senator) Bricker was
nominated. Everybody knew that he
did not have a chance for the top place
on the ticket. Governor Dewey had
that sewed up. But Bricker is genial,
likeable, warm-hearted, and the dele-
gates gave him an uproarious personal
send-off. Dewey got the top place on
the ticket. Bricker got the vice presi-
dential spot. But judging from the
demonstration alone, it looked like the
other way around.
Stranger things have happened just
for fun. The "Will Rogers for Presi-
dent" movement started as a gag in the
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1920s but it became almost serious by
1928 and the Bascom Timmons episode
is famous. Timmons is a tall, raw-
boned, likable reporter who was rep-
resenting a string of Texas newspapers
in 1944. He was extremely popular
with his fellow reporters, particularly
with men like John Daly who had
worked with him in Washington. To-
ward the middle of the Democratic
convention they decided that, since
everyone else had a favorite son, the
correspondents ought to have one, too.
Timmons was chosen as the correspon-
dents' candidate one evening when the
reporters were resting in their hotel
from the labors of the day. His "cam-
paign" provided under-cover fun for
several days with high flown "state-
ments" from Timmons and hot news
"bulletins" flying back and forth. Of
course not for publication or broadcast.
The joke reached its climax when, in
the spirit of fun, Timmons was actually
nominated for the vice-presidency by
someone from the Texas delegation.
He got a rousing reception, too. Of
course his "campaign" ended with the
demonstration, but his "backers" car-
ried the thing to its logical conclusion
and gave a party to soothe the hurt
feelings of their rejected candidate.
THIS year, nomination by acclamation
of someone who does not appear
to be in the running at the moment
could very well happen. William Jen-
nings Bryan, one of several outsiders in
1896, swept the Democratic convention
with his famous "Cross of Gold" speech.
Even if it is true that the landslide for
President Roosevelt at the 1936 Demo-
cratic convention started in the bowels
of the convention hall ventilating sys-
tem, his nomination by acclamation
was genuine. The start of any demon-
stration can be contrived, but the dele-
gates do not stampede easily or soon.
They are hard-headed citizens when it
comes to the voting. Your commen-
tator will tell you which is a routine
demonstration to let off steam, and
which is the real thing.
This year you will hear many more
voices on the air than you did in 1944.
The outcome of both conventions ap-
pears more uncertain than four years
ago, and many more news men are
available to cover them.
When the conventions met in Chicago
in 1944, the Normandy invasion had
just begun, the bomb plot against Hitler
had almost succeeded, news was pop-
ping in Washington and in the Pacific.
The networks had their men spread all
over the world.
Those of us who did go felt as if we
had talked steadily for almost a week.
We had to do our regular news shows
and describe the surface and back-
grounds of the conventions, too, with
only a few hours' sleep in the early
morning hours. It was a stimulating
experience, but I was glad that neither
convention lasted more than a week.
The fun wears off and the delegates
wear thin when a convention deadlocks
and drags along for weeks as the Demo-
cratic convention did in 1924 when
Senator McAdoo and Governor Al Smith
were battling for the nomination and
many delegates went broke living in
New York and lobbying each other in
night clubs.
This year, 1 shall be watching the re-
porters working on the floor with no
little envy as they move about seeking
statements from the leaders of various
key states when the voting starts, be-
cause I had a brief experience of that
kind in 1944. Before going into radio. I
was the editor of Living Age and head
of the editorial department of the book
publishers, Simon and Shuster. I never
was a reporter on a newspaper, and I
started in radio as an analyst of world
events. Perhaps that is why I can't help
thinking that the reporters on the floor
have all of the fun. Certainly my big
moment at the 1944 convention came
when I covered the Henry Wallace
demonstration from the floor.
I was supposed to stay in our booth
and ride the storm from there — the
high-brow, double-dome news analyst.
But it looked like more fun on the
floor, so Paul White, our news director,
let me go.
White has a fine sense of humor. It
was he who was thoughtful enough to
have eight bags of coal delivered to Ed
Murrow's stateroom when Murrow was
sailing to Newcastle, and I think he had
the idea that he was playing a good
joke on me when he said, "Okay." John
Daly, more experienced in what could
happen on the floor, offered to share
his policeman with me — a friendly ges-
ture because a gentleman is at a dis-
advantage when an excited lady grabs
the microphone and won't let go.
Anyway, down I went with a forty-
pound pack transmitter strapped to my
back. Behind me walked an engineer
carrying more equipment. I felt like an
African explorer with his bearer.
All of us have heard many times that
the conservative Democrats forced
President Roosevelt to "scuttle" Wal-
lace at that time. I was there, and I
do not think that is true. I have no
proof, but it is my conviction that Mr.
Roosevelt already was thinking in
terms of world peace when he did not
again insist on Wallace as a running
mate as he had in 1940. Roosevelt had
been through the whole League of Na-
tions tragedy with President Wilson
after the first world war. He had seen
a hostile Senate keep America out of
the League of Nations and reject the
Versailles Treaty. He knew that the
war was ending, that he might not live
through the establishment of the United
Nations and the conclusion of the peace
treaties. And he knew that the Senate
did not like Wallace. I do not think
that any party politics or city machine
pressure could possibly have badgered
Mr. Roosevelt into ditching Wallace as
he certainly did. I think it much more
likely that Roosevelt foresaw the many
difficulties we would face in organizing
the United Nations and making peace,
and that he thought that the Senate
would work better with Truman.
WHAT will happen in Wallace's Third
Party campaign by the time the con-
ventions open is anyone's guess right
now, and it is even harder to say where
he will fetch up in the fall because so
much depends on the other candidates.
If General Eisenhower should run,
that would almost certainly cost Wal-
lace most of his present followers — and
not Wallace only. The General looks
like the only candidate for whom any-
thing like a landslide could develop.
But he seems to have taken himself out
of the picture.
In any case, if you hear what appears
to be a stampede for a popular native
son, don't jump too rapidly to conclu-
sions. It probably won't mean a thing
beyond a healthy demonstration of
our American freedom of expression,
though the fact that our political con-
ventions can combine serious purpose
and ceremonious fun is pretty impor-
tant in itself. As long as Americans
can enjoy themselves nominating a
presidential candidate, the health of
our democracy remains sound.
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The Wife in the Life
of Dennis Day
(Continued from page 59)
Los Angeles but far from the gossip
columns of radio and screen. One Sun-
day afternoon the McNultys and a
couple of their boys called on the Alm-
quists, and Peggy was there, home from
the University of California — and the
McNulty boy known as Dennis Day
asked for a date right then and there.
None of this was in the script Holly-
wood's matchmakers had laid out for
the very personable and eligible Den-
nis. The way Hollywood doped it,
Dennis Day would fall eventually for
one of its own career-and-glamor girls.
But Dennis, a home boy, picked Peggy,
a home girl, just as those who really
knew the lad had always known he
would. Peggy — blue-eyed, brown-
haired, cream-skinned — is as pretty
and wholesome as a May morning.
So that first date led to another, and
finally to the date on which, some
eight months ago, Dennis asked that
question and got his "Yes."
Well, as the folks all said, it was a
beautiful wedding, just as Peggy and
Dennis had wanted it.
"Quiet, with dignity, and just the
two families and family friends,"
they'd agreed when talking it over,
"because this is the only wedding we'll
ever have — and we want it to be ours "
I'LL ask Betty to be my matron of
honor," said Peg. (Betty — Mrs.
Jerome Linenkugel — is a longtime
friend of Peg's.)
The day in the lives of Dennis and
Peggy was a Thursday (January 29th),
the place the beautiful old chapel of
Mission San Juan Capistrano, some fifty
miles from Hollywood. Here, 172 years
ago, California's pioneer padres dedi-
cated this holy ground in the then
pagan wilderness. The mission bells the
padres heard still ring sweetly today,
and the towering gray olives and
golden acacias they planted still shade
the fragrant gardens they laid out.
Our Mr. Day, before the nuptial Mass
befan, was not the least bit nervous.
Unlike the breathless, hapless young
man he portrays on his own air show,
unlike the meek and mild butt of Jack
Benny's jokes on Sundays, Dennis was
poised, calm, and collected.
"It's only the cold," he whispered to
his brother and best rrian John Mc-
Nulty, "that's making my teeth chatter
and my hands shake. These thick
adobe walls, you know. . . ."
"Yes, I know," John grinned sym-
pathetically. "You want me to take the
ring now?"
"N-n-no, not yet. I — I just want to
keep it here in my pocket where I can
check on it — myself — once in a while."
Father John Conlon officiated, and
Father George Gallagher sang "Panis
Angelicus" and "Ave Maria," and
white tapers gleamed before the carved
altar of Spanish gold-leaf. And Peggy
Almquist, a picture bride in white
satin and veil, became Mrs. Eugene
Dennis McNulty, wearing a slender
platinum band encrusted with small
stones to match her dazzling engage-
ment diamond.
There followed the wedding break-
fast at nearby Balboa, at the home of
Peggy's uncle Joseph Bahan, with all
the padres joining their good strong
voices in songs to Dennis and his bride,
and Dennis and Peggy so busy kissing
guests and being kissed they scarcely
had a chance to eat. The breakfast was
gay, a regular family reunion with Mc-
Nultys and Almquists from miles
around, and it was hours before Peggy
could slip away to change to her "going
away" outfit — a smartly trim tailored
suit — and return to join Dennis in
their "escape." More kisses, a few
affectionate tears, then the dash to
Dennis's parked gray convertible, and
they were off under a shower of rice
and shouted goodbyes.
"I've a wonderful idea, Peggy," said
Dennis suddenly as they sped along.
"Yes?"
"Let's," he said deadpan, "get
married!"
"M-m-m. . . ." She shook her head.
"Never again — because that time was
for keeps!"
The honeymoon site was near War-
ner Hot Springs, a resort north of San
Diego. Dennis and Peggy bypassed the
Springs for his friend Ben Benbough's
ranch, 640 acres in a wilderness of des-
ert-mountain country. Benbough was
an overseas pal of Dennis's, during
their Navy days in the war, and his
offer of the secluded ranch for the
honeymoon was eagerly accepted.
Secluded? Except for the caretaker's
cottage, two miles from the ranch
house, there's not a human dwelling for
miles. The house itself is of stone, with
the three bedrooms in knotty pine, a
stone fireplace in every room.
THE sun already was losing its
warmth and the night's chill creeping
into the air when Dennis and Peggy
pulled up at the door. Fires were al-
ready laid, waiting for a match, and in
no time Dennis had them crackling.
"You're beautiful, Mrs. McNulty," he
remarked solemnly. "Can you cook?"
"By some reports, m'lord," replied
Peggy.
"But I reserve the right to do the
steaks," he warned.
That first meal was something to re-
member. Succulent steaks, barbecued
in the Dennis manner, which means
they must be marinated in a special
sauce before the flames touch them.
Stuffed baked potatoes, done Peggy-
style with onions and cream cheese.
Corn on the cob. Green salad. And
biscuits, Peggy's own, feather-light and
golden brown. ("I'm here to testify,"
said Dennis later, "that Peggy is a
cook!")
They ate by firelight, with the dark
velvet sky framed in the windows, the
stars huge and brilliant and romantic.
But there was one item Dennis had
forgotten. In that country the winter
days may be warm, but the nights are
freezing cold. In the morning, when he
suggested a sightseeing ride, he found
the gray convertible balky. He had
neglected to empty the radiator, and it
was frozen solid.
"Well," said Peggy helpfully. "Walk-
ing is nice, too."
So they took a sightseeing hike in-
stead. As Dennis remarked, they didn't
have to go anywhere. No singing lesson
to take, no rehearsals to rush to, no on-
the-air deadlines. Four whole days of
freedom from the hectic rush of his
career, and a longer honeymoon trip to
anticipate later, when he would take
Peggy to New York (which she had
never seen) while he recorded songs
for his next film, "Babes in Toyland."
Sunday, their last day, with the car's
radiator now nicely thawed, they drove
to the quaint chapel of Santa Isabel
for Mass, and they delighted in the
singing of the Indian worshippers. It
was on the way back that they met
their mountain lion — the big one that
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got away. " Unfortunately," says uermis.
They were driving along when the
cat loomed, suddenly, just ahead of
the car, and Dennis had to swerve to
avoid striking the animal. Peggy
gasped, and Dennis thought longingly
of his gun collection at home while he
reached for his .22 pistol in the glove
compartment. But the cat was too fast.
With one leap it disappeared into a
roadside thicket.
"Now," said Dennis, "I'm going to
sulk. That was a fast 125 bucks that
just escaped me — there's a bounty on
those cats. As a married man with re-
sponsibilities, I have to think about
items like that!"
Well, that honeymoon ended, too
soon, when Mr. and Mrs. McNulty
parked their car in the Dennis Day
home garage in Hollywood's Los Feliz
section and Dennis, true to tradition,
carried his bride over the threshold. To
hear him tell it, he did it in a walk — but
"He almost dropped me," teased Peggy
later.
"But, honey, you're a big girl," Den-
nis alibied, grinning.
Actually, Peggy is a slim young
creature. And, incidentally, she meets
the Day specifications for a wife as
Dennis once outlined them in pre-
Peggy days: "... a girl with good
health and a zest for life ... a sense
of humor . . . interested in music . . .
can cook and sew . . . and she must
love children. . . ."
The Day home, a two-story Mediter-
ranean-style dwelling, has twelve
rooms, enough to meet space require-
ments for the fulfillment of their
mutual desire for small McNultys. The
newlyweds are settling down there
now, looking for household help but
with Peggy, meanwhile, doing what
Dennis calls a great job of "pushing
that vacuum cleaner, cooking those
meals, and washing those dishes — she
washes and I dry."
PEGGY markets in the new blue Olds
that was Dennis's wedding gift to her
(she gave him a gold watch band) and
she talks to decorators about a few
changes they'll make in the home.
She's arranging display space for her
collection of demi-tasse cups, and try-
ing to decide whether to bring her pet
cocker, Mickey, to live with Dennis's
cocker, Dink Trout. She and Dennis
are working out a budget, and planning
their New York trip, and how she finds
time to write poetry (a secret avocation
of hers which Dennis proudly reveals
to her dismay) is beyond calculation.
And Dennis, when he isn't working
at radio or pictures or his new song-
publishing business, is laboring on the
new barbecue. The bids he received
for its construction were steep, and —
"I've got two good hands, and friends,"
he explains. The friends are Pat Sul-
livan, a fire chief, and John Fitzgerald
and John Kowser.
And — oh, yes, about those lamb
chops that played iceberg. . . .
The Days' first meal at home was
somewhat less idyllic than their firelit
first meal in the desert. It seems that
Peggy, newly initiated to the ways of
deep-freeze units, forgot to allow
those lamb chops time to thaw out be-
fore cooking. When Dennis came home
to dinner that evening, the chops were
still hunks of icy granite.
"We had pork and beans," reports
Peggy ruefully.
"Peggy, you see," beams Dennis ap-
provingly, "is a resourceful, all-around
cook. She knows all there is to know
about can-ooeners too!"
"Bless This Ring
(Continued from page 69)
??
"It's just," she said, half-aloud, "that
I don't know how Rosemary will take
his being gone indefinitely . . ."
But deep inside she did know; that
was what made the decision so hard.
Rosemary was like her — Susy Dawson
all over again. With both of them, the
heart once given could never be re-
called. Susy knew what it was to wait
years for a man, with never a sign from
him, not knowing where he was, or
even if he was alive — and to go on
waiting after all reason told her that all
hope was gone.
Bill agreed with them that it was a
good time to make the break. He had
only one objection to make. "I don't
want to leave her until after Christ-
mas," he said. "I don't want to spoil
Christmas for her, and I want it to re-
member for myself."
THAT'S what happens to a love that
has a cloud hanging over it," Susy
told him. "If Dick had only faced Joyce
with the truth in the very beginning —
if he had only admitted to Joyce that
Emily still loved him and that there
had been other women in his life — all
this might have been prevented. It
takes time for love to grow into an all-
powerful thing, Bill. That first burst
of loneliness is like a crocus that
blooms and can disappear without too
much hurt. It's when the roots grow
deep down into your heart that the loss
can become almost unbearable."
"It can't happen to Rosemary," Bill
said almost inaudibly. "It mustn't."
So Rosemary and Bill had their
Christmas together, all that Christmas
should be, with the family around them,
and the turkey and the tree and the
presents, and the day after Christmas
Bill told her that he was going away.
She took it well, telling herself that the
sooner he went the sooner he would be
coming back, telling herself that she
had so much, so very much to look
forward to. She rode to the station
with Bill and Dr. Jim, and went home
to find a note that Bill had hidden for
her under the Christmas tree.
"My darling one, I have your picture
and mine with me, but no picture, how-
ever good, is like your face with the
snowflakes on your nose and on your
eyelashes and on your dearest mouth.
You are everything."
She had that, and the next day a
telephone call from Bill, to say again
how much he loved her. Joyce Miller,
on the other hand, had nothing but her
own fast-failing hope. One wire had
come from Dick, saying that he was
suffering from shock and would re-
main away for a while longer. Nothing
else.
"Now will you come and stay with
us?" Rosemary begged. "You'll feel
better, Joycey, than if you go on staring
at the walls of that room of yours. And
you can keep me company until Bill
comes back."
Joyce accepted. She had no other
alternative. She clung to Rosemary.
"It's done me all the good in the
world to be with you and your mother
and Patti," she said one afternoon
when they were walking home from
work together. "It's drawn me out of
myself. I'm beginning to think of
Dick's side of it, to think of all he's
gone through and how hard it must be
for him. I'm so grateful, Rosemary."
"I'm grateful to you" Rosemary re-
plied. "I don't know how I could have
endured waiting these last few days,
with no word from either Bill or Dr.
Jim since that telephone call. Now
that it's almost over — "
"Almost over?"
"Yes." Rosemary quickened her al-
ready hurrying footsteps. "It's just
about time for them to be coming back.
Bill will have gone through with his
test by this time, and Dr. Jim has to get
back to his practice."
"Go on and talk," Joyce smiled. "It
makes me feel good to hear you, to
know that two people who love each
other are going to be together again.
Rosemary! Isn't that Dr. Jim's car in
front of your house?"
"It is!" Rosemary gasped. They flew
down the walk, up the steps of the
house. Rosemary flung open the door,
crying, "Dr. Jim! Dr. Jim!"
"Rosemary, my dear — "
She was too excited to see the gravity
of his expression. Her eyes were every-
where, looking for Bill. Her mother
was there, and Patti . . . Bill must be in
his room, hiding, to surprise her.
"Where's Bill?" she cried. "Bill —
Mother, is he in his room?"
"No, dear. He's not in his room."
"He's not here," said Joyce in an
echoing, empty tone.
"Of course he's here — " Rosemary
said. "Isn't he, Dr. Jim?"
"Well—"
Susy Dawson cut in mercifully, "Bill's
still in Chicago, Rosemary."
"Chicago. Oh, no, he can't be! You
promised, Dr. Jim — "
"I promised to go with him," said Dr.
Jim uncomfortably. "I didn't promise
to stay there indefinitely. Bill had
some things to attend to — "
JIM, it's no use," Susy broke in.
"Rosemary, Bill has made up his
mind to stay away until his memory re-
turns."
"Oh, no — " It was a whisper.
Dr. Jim cleared his throat. "It's the
best thing, dear, believe me. There's
nothing final about this parting — "
"How do you know there isn't?"
Rosemary cried passionately. "How
do you know that months — years —
won't go by, and Bill will still be wan-
dering around in a fog. And while he
does — " her voice broke — "while he
does, the memory of me may get faint-
er, too. I should never have let him go
alone with you, Dr. Jim, but I trusted
you so — And, you, Mother — "
"Give him a little time, Rosemary,"
Dr. Jim pleaded. "You're still very
young — "
"Time!" she cried. "Do you think
there can be enough years in a lifetime
for people who love each other to
spend together? What else is there in
life for me but being with Bill? I'm
through talking. You were staying at
the Blackwood, weren't you, Dr. Jim?"
"Rosemary," begged her mother, "do
as Jim asks and give Bill a little time — "
"No." Joyce spoke, and her voice
was suddenly stronger and surer than
anyone had ever heard it, ever. "All
of life isn't time enough to spend with
the man you love. Don't wait, Rose-
mary. Go after him if you can — quick,
quick — before it's too late."
"Yes," Patti chimed in excitedly. "Go
after him, Rosemary. I'll pack for you."
There was a bad moment after Joyce
had got the Blackwood Hotel on the
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86
telephone and had transferred the in-
strument to Rosemary. Bill had checked
out only a few minutes before. No,
he'd left no forwarding address.
"Have him paged," Joyce hissed.
"'He may still be in the hotel."
Rosemary had him paged. After a
few minutes she covered the mouth-
piece and turned joyously to her friend.
"He's coming to the phone! They've
found him!"
SHE sat farcing Bill at a table for two
in the almost deserted dining room
of the Blackwood. It was a window
table, and the hotel was on the Drive;
below them was the wintry, glittering
blue of Lake Michigan; on either side
rose the white stone and marble cres-
cent of the city. This was Rosemary's
first city, and she found it wonderful,
all of it, but just now she had no eyes
for anything but Bill.
He was smiling, hadn't stopped smil-
ing from the moment, a little while be-
fore, that her journey had ended in the
hotel lobby. No, he hadn't wanted her
to come. It was all wrong. She must
go back. But he couldn't cover his glad-
ness that she had come.
"Darling," he said now for the fiftieth
time, "what made you come when I
told you not to? Now it's going to be
twice as hard to leave you."
"Except," said Rosemary, "you're
not leaving me." She was this way
now, not pleading with him, not argu-
ing, trying to persuade him, just quiet-
ly sure. There was nothing he could
say or do to change her.
"I have to," he said. "I will not
marry you until I know who I am,
where I belong, what my background
is, what . . . what involvements — "
"You mean," she said calmly, "that
you're afraid you'll wake up some
morning and remember that you're in
love with someone else, or engaged to
someone else."
"It could happen," he said. "I don't
know. I can't be sure."
"But I'm sure. I've always been sure
about that." She paused. "I love you,
Bill, more than I know how to say. I
love you with everything I am, with all
my life. You love me the same way.
If you didn't, I'd know it. And you
couldn't love twice, not that way. I
know I couldn't, and I know you
couldn't."
He laughed helplessly. "What am I
going to do with you?" he demanded.
"You know how much I want you. I
nearly went crazy when Dr. Jim went
back to Springdale, to you, and left me
here. All that kept me here was think-
ing that I had to do it for you. You've
done so much for me, helped me
through so much, until I know my
memory is just around the corner — "
"That's just why I'm going to stay
with you."
"But, Rosemary — Oh, dearest, I don't
know what to do — "
"I do," said Rosemary. "Where do
we get a marriage license in Chicago?"
They got the license, had the neces-
sary blood tests, that afternoon, and
then they called the Dawson house.
Patti and Joyce were overjoyed at the
news. Dr. Jim gave his blessing re-
luctantly; Rosemary's mother gave .her
blessing fearfully but wholeheartedly,
and said exactly what Rosemary had
known she would say. "But, darling, if
you must get married, can't you come
home and be married here?"
Rosemary wouldn't. Even with the
license in Bill's pocket, she was still
afraid that something, somehow would
prevent the marriage from taking place.
But finally, it was the last day.
"I can't believe it," Rosemary said
over and over. "I can't believe we'll
be married tomorrow. After tomorrow
I'll be Mrs. William Roberts."
"I can't believe any of it," said Bill.
"I can't believe that you really came all
the way to Chicago on my account. I
can't believe that I'm so happy — "
"Me, too," said Rosemary. "I'm so
wonderfully, warmly, deeply happy.
I — Bill, are they calling my name?"
They were. She was being paged, to
answer a long distance call. She would
remember the scene later, after events
had made it significant — the long couch
underneath the windows upon which
she and Bill sat, the twilight over the
lake, the warm, winking lights in the
tall, white buildings. She would re-
member getting up to answer the call,
and Bill's signalling the bellhop, get-
ting his attention; she would remember
saying, "I hope nothing's happened at
home" — and then stopping short, know-
ing that everything was all right at
home. Knowing that she should not,
must not, answer the call.
"Nothing's wrong at home," she said.
"I know it. I'm not going to answer,
Bill."
"Not going to answer! Why, of course
you are! If someone's calling you all
the way from Springdale — "
"No." She shook her head. "I'm not
going to take it, that's all."
In Springdale, in the Dawson house,
Susy Dawson replaced the telephone,
slowly, before the disapproving eyes of
Patti and Joyce. She was almost re-
lieved that Rosemary had not been in
the hotel. What, after all, would she
have told her? That they thought they
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had — that they might have — some con-
crete information about Bill's past? No,
she couldn't say what it was, because
she didn't know what it was, or if it
might be anything at all to do with Bill.
Tell her that Peter Harvey, who had
once loved — who still loved — Rosemary,
had telephoned hours before to say
that she must not marry Bill and then
had hung up and had not called back?
Peter was fine; he was reliable, but
Rosemary would not have listened. She
would only have been upset.
Late that night when the telephone
rang at the Dawson's, Susy was asleep.
But Patti and Joyce were awake, and
they answered.
"It's an awful hour," said Bill's voice
apologetically, "but we had a message
this afternoon saying that Rosemary'd
had a call from Springdale. I couldn't
sleep for wondering if something was
wrong, and I finally decided to call and
find out."
"Nothing's wrong," said Joyce, her'
eyes meeting Patti's. "We were just
calling to — to — "
"To wish them happiness," Patti
prompted in a whisper.
"To wish you happiness," said Joyce.
" — -and to say goodbye," Patti finished,
seizing the telephone. "Goodbye, Bill,
darling. Give Rosemary our love. I
love you, too. I loved you first — don't
forget."
"I won't," Bill laughed. "Goodbye,
little sister. We'll see you soon."
Rosemary had a clear cold day for
her wedding, with the lake like blue
enamel and the dazzle of sun and
frost. She had Bill's white orchids on
her shoulder and organ music — from a
phonograph — played at the timid sug-
gestion of the minister's shy young
daughter. The parsonage was a tall
old house on a side street, the parlor
tall and narrow and dim. Her en-
gagement ring flashed gloriously in the
half-light; the wedding rings, hers and
Bill's, gleamed dully gold.
It was pure enchantment, all of it,
even the cab driver who told them with
kind cynicism that they thought mar-
ried life was wonderful because they
hadn't had time to know anything
about it. Re-registering at the hotel,
so that they now occupied one room in-
stead of two, walking into the dining
room for lunch — which was really a
wedding breakfast. . . .
"I'm thinking of the Wishing Well,"
Bill said. "Of all the times we ate
there, and I'd watch your face in the
candlelight and wonder if this would
ever really happen. I'd wonder if we
would ever really face each other
across our own table in our own
house — "
"We will," Rosemary promised. "I'm
sure of it. Don't you feel it, too, Bill?
Don't you feel better about everything?
Surer?"
"I do." He nodded slowly. "I don't
know why — there isn't any reason for
it — but somehow I'm not worried any
more."
"I'm not, either," Rosemary said. "I
feel so safe — so happy. I'm not going
to worry about anything, ever again."
She really felt that she wouldn't.
Upstairs in their room, in the blessed
security of Bill's arms, she felt that
nothing would ever hurt her again.
From now on, anything could happen,
and yet nothing could take away what
they had now. The very worst could
happen, if it would — Bill could forget
her, forget this part of his life — and yet
because they had each other now, be-
longed to each other now, they were
forever one.
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87
My Winning Nights with Heidt
(Continued on page 49)
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88
Name
Address
City & State
m
This was the beginning of what the
radio announcer on the program lavish-
ly calls my "triumphal cross country
championship tour" but what I consid-
ered privately to be "the miracle of the
bellows."
But before I talk about that, I'd like
to go back to the very beginning of my
story.
From the time Dad won Mother's
hand by serenading her with his accor-
dion, that instrument has played a dom-
inant role in my life. Dad came from
Sicily where the accordion has always
been a favorite instrument. Mother was
an old fashioned girl even though she
was born in Pittsburgh, so with my ma-
ternal grandpa sitting discreetly be-
tween them on the couch, Dad had to
let the accordion do most of his talking.
MARRIAGE to mother put an end to
my father's role as a romantic musi-
cal vagabond. They §ettled down in
Fresno, California and started a butcher
shop. The accordion lay, gathering dust,
until I was old enough to toddle around.
At that point my parents were always
afraid that I'd hurt myself badly if I
ever succeeded in my attempts to pull
it down off its shelf. As a kid, I was
always crazy about the accordion, but
when I asked for one of my own, the
answer was always:
"Wait until your taller. You have to
be a big boy to handle an accordion."
Finally when my thirteenth birthday
rolled around, the long wait was over.
My parents proudly presented me with
an accordion that was the best money
could buy, and built especially to my
measurements. I was almost bursting
with joy. I knew that years of work
and sacrifice had gone for the money
it took to buy that accordion. Mom had
to be a "butcher lady" by day and cook,
housekeeper and guardian angel for her
growing family in every other • spare
moment. Dad had scrimped and gone
without many things too, in order to
give me what I wanted.
As fate would have it, the very next
year I shot up like a weed. The irony
of it all was unbearable. I had waited
twelve years to be big enough to play
the accordion, my parents had saved
all that time to buy it, and then I had
outgrown my instrument in less than
ten months. Mom and Dad grimly set
their lips, gave me a look which im-
plied that I had better not pull a stunt
like that again, took my precious in-
strument, traded it in on a new one.
From then on, it was practice, prac-
tice, practice, and for variety, a little
more practice. When I first went to San
Francisco to meet my teacher, Angelo
Cagnazzo, he threw up his hands in
horror at my fumbling attempts.
"You call this music?" he bellowed.
"Stop! Stop! Your technique is terrible.
Here, let me show you . . ."
And he did. He taught me everything
.1 needed to know plus giving me that
extra something that makes a great
teacher more of an inspiration than a
task-master. I gladly traveled the two
hundred and fifty miles to San Fran-
cisco and back every weekend because
there was no one else quite like Mr.
Cagnazzo. He took advantage of every
spark of talent I possessed. I worked
an average of five hours a day, and I
have spent as much as thirteen hours
in one day on the accordion. But "for
love or money" my efforts have been
amply repaid. At the time though, I
worked so hard at my music that it
worried my Mom. One day she dragged
me to the doctor.
"Can there be something wrong with
Dick?" she asked the doctor anxiously.
"He never goes out and has fights like
the other kids in the neighborhood. He'd
rather practice or listen to music."
There was one time though when I
was almost torn in two by conflicting
desires. Californians are great sports
fans, and in the high schools especially,
a boy doesn't rate unless he's a star
athlete. I'm six feet tall and weigh one
hundred and seventy pounds, so when
I was approached to try out for the foot-
ball team at Fresno High, I was only
too happy to attend the first practice
session. That night, after practice, my
father sat down with me.
"You like football a lot, don't you?"
he asked quietly.
"I'm crazy about it," I admitted.
"You know that one football injury
. can ruin your hands for the accordion."
"Gee, Dad," I replied, struck by the
truth of his statement. "I hadn't real-
ized that."
The next day I went down to the
coach's office and asked him to excuse
me. That was the first real sacrifice I
ever had to make for my music.
Later on, in high school, I was kept
so busy that I didn't have time to worry
about football. I was doing an early
morning all-request program for station
KARM which was a lot of fun except
for one thing. I had to do my own radio
announcing and that threw me for a
while. But Bob Carlson and John Gar-
rick at the station made me do it, and
as it turned out, it was good training
for the little "thank-you" speeches I
had to ad lib later with Horace Heidt.
IN addition to the morning broadcasts,
I was working nights at the Cali-
fornia Hotel in Fresno with Lou Math's
orchestra. I had always planned to
work with an orchestra or with what
musicians call a "combo," but my
mother wanted me to be a soloist. She
would watch me perform and say:
"When you stand up there alone,
Dick, you play with your heart. I can
tell."
I guess she was right. It was as a
soloist that I competed on the Horace
Heidt program from Fresno.
That first coast to coast broadcast was
very hard on my nerves. For three days
before it, I couldn't eat.
"Dick, why are you so upset?" my
mother chided me gently. "The broad-
cast will be held in Fresno. It's your
home town. Everybody knows you
here."
The audience was filled with people
I knew, but they might have been total
strangers for all the confidence I had
in their reception of me. Besides, there
was Halyard Patterson, a boy I'd known
from Fresno High, setting a swift pace
with his tricky, brilliant piano styling.
I knew I had just barely beaten him
out, when the official judges announced
that it was "Dick Contino, plus thirty."
The words meant I had won.
The next day I boarded the special
car that was taking Horace Heidt's band
to Los Angeles. Mr. Heidt had reassured
my folks that I would be well taken
care of, but I was feeling very lonely
in spite of my excitement, when I saw
a small, lively boy dressed in a white
sweater and blue slacks come hurrying
down the aisle of the car towards me.
"Hiya," he said, grinning amiably and
offering his hand. "I'm Harold Peck
from Hollywood High and I think we
ought to get acquainted because we're
going to be roommates."
IT turned out that Harold was a dancer
and he had caught Mr. Heidt's eye
during the Hollywood show. Harold is a
little firecracker, always joking and al-
ways ready to go out on some illogical
jaunt in the middle of the night, long
after our shows are over. I don't think
that there are many guys who would
pull themselves out of bed at three a.m.
to go down and eat spaghetti. But
"Peppy" Peck and I get along fine.
On the second broadcast, I had to
compete against students from the Uni-
versity of Southern California before
an all-USC audience. I didn't have
much hope of winning against one of
the school's favorite sons.
If anything, those kids at USC leaned
over backwards in their effort to give
me a square deal. In spite of my ex-
treme nervousness, once I got up to
play, everything went smoothly and I
won my second contest.
The third and fourth shows were
given in Van Nuys and Pasadena, Cali-
fornia. To my continuing amazement I
kept winning. The more shows I won,
the more tense I became. It was getting
harder and harder to face the ever-
present prospect of losing. Our fifth
show was scheduled for Omaha, Ne-
braska and all the wise-guys who had
never been out of New York or Holly-
wood before, told me:
"Omaha? You got nothing to worry
about, kid. What possible talent can
there be in Omaha? Probably they'll
have to hunt high and low to find
enough contestants for the show."
I didn't say anything to the boys
then, but I had my doubts. Sure enough,
when the call for talent went out, Mr.
Heidt received a flood of two thousand
applicants, and of course he auditioned
every single one of them. Out of that
grouo came Harold Parr and Johnny
Vanna.
Johnny was a boy of fourteen who
could play three instruments as well as
I could play my accordion. Harold Parr,
who has a deep, rich baritone voice was
a graduate of the Nebraska School for
the Blind. Both of them were so sen-
sational that there was a split audience
vote! It was mighty close, but the ap-
plause meter showed a small margin in
my favor so I just squeaked through.
After that Omaha show I called
Fresno and found that fifty members
of our family had gathered to yell their
congratulations over the long distance
wires. It made me realize all over again
that my family was my first and best
group of fans. They told me that my
Uncle Dan had his garage business dis-
play window full of pictures and write-
ups about me. That kind of loyalty and
family pride was true of every one of
my relatives and I'll always be grate-
ful for it.
Aside from missing the folks, life on
the road can sometimes be very trying.
Most of my fans are wonderful friends
who have helped me greatly in the suc-
cess I have had so far. I'm especially
proud of the fact that there are so many
boys who write me letters and boost
me in their home towns. But in one of
the largest cities in the United States I
ran across a girl who was more phony
than fan and she almost got me into a
lot of trouble.
She first popped into my dressing-
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room one afternoon and announced,
"I'm going to do some publicity write-
ups on you."
"That's nice," I answered. Since pub-
licity writers look very much like other
people I had no reason to suspect that
she wasn't one of them. "What paper
do you write for?" I asked.
"I'm very sorry but I can't tell you,"
she said mysteriously. I should have
realized then that something was wrong.
We didn't have time for an interview
that afternoon, but she came back the
same evening. I explained that I was
due at an accordion studio for a re-
hearsal.
"I'll come too," she said firmly.
From then on I couldn't get rid of
her. She followed me everywhere.
After a day or so she stopped pretend-
ing that she was a publicity writer and
told me that she could teach me some
wonderful secret tricks on the accor-
dion. This sounded even sillier than
the publicity story and I told her so.
But she continued to hang around.
One night, the whole thing came to
a climax. We had done six stage shows
that day, and at eleven thirty, Harold
Peck and I were both dead tired. I
called down to the stage-door to see if
my "fan" was still there. She was.
"Waiting to have a midnight snack
with you," was the message the stage-
door man relayed.
"Let's wait up here in the dressing
room until she gets tired and goes
away," suggested Harold Peck.
We sat there for over an hour, prac-
tically falling asleep on each other's
shoulders. Then Harold went out and
took a peek at the stage-door. She was
still there.
"We have to do something," he an-
nounced dramatically. I followed his
gaze to the fire-escape outside of our
dressing room window. We nodded to
each other. Very quietly we put on
our coats and started climbing down the
three stories to the sidewalk. The street
below was still brightly lit and the
weekend crowds milled about. Keeping
a weather eye out for the policeman
standing on the corner, we proceeded
down the side of the building.
Finally we reached the bottom and
just as we were about to drop the last
six feet to the sidewalk, our lady of
the stage door spotted us. Then with
her eyes blazing and her hands on her
hips, she began to call us some pretty
awful names. For a minute or two we
just dangled there above the sidewalk
while an amused crowd gathered below
us to watch the spectacle. This was too
much, especially since the corner po-
liceman was heading our way. Without
a word, Harold and I jumped right into
the middle of the crowd and hightailed
it down the street.
"You'll never get very far in show
business with your attitude," she
screamed, her voice fading in the dis-
tance. I thought of all the things I
could have told her when it was too
late, for she never showed up again.
That incident was just one little thorn
in an otherwise perfect bed of roses.
I went on with Mr. Heidt through Des
Moines, Minneapolis, Youngstown and
Cleveland. The .competition didn't les-
sen in the slightest. Every one of those
performers was outstanding, and Dick
Melari from Cleveland really had me
jumping there with his sensational
imitations of the top crooners.
The stop after Cleveland was none
other than Brooklyn, and it was there
that I was sure my "championship
streak" would be abruptly ended.
Brooklynites are famous for the way
they stick together and boost each other.
Yet when I got up to play, they were
as good to me as if I were a native
of Flatbush.
After Brooklyn, came contests in the
Bronx, Long Island, and Manhattan. I
was holding my breath. I had won
thirteen times straight, and the four-
teenth program was the quarter-finals.
Then, that fourteenth Sunday night,
with my Mom and Dad sitting in the
audience in New York, taking their first
vacation after fifteen years of sacrifice
and hard work in their butcher shop, I
knew I'd have to win ... for them. I
played with all the heart and skill
I possessed and sat down still dizzy
with tension and excitement. The five
minutes that elapsed between my num-
ber and the decision of the judges in
the audience seemed like an eternity.
When the announcer finally broke the
news that I had won my fourteenth
straight victory and the seven hundred
and fifty dollar prize, I was happier
than at any time before in my life.
Right now I have a weekly guest spot
on the Horace Heidt Talent Contest and
of course I'm still touring with Mr.
Heidt's stage show. There won't be any
more competition for me until the finals
roll around in six months, with a grand
prize of five thousand dollars at stake.
Until then, I can relax, see the country,
take a little time out for dreaming, and
enjoy the friendship of the wonderful
people who helped all this happen to me.
out o£ mcf, m&ututy&f
— So writes one devoted listener to "My
True Story" Radio Program. "These dramas
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Come and Visit
Don McNeill
(Continued from page 33)
Merchandise Mart studios, and arrived
at the McNeills' limestone house at
6:30 some morning, you'd find the real
warm-up for the Breakfast Club in
progress.
When the Breakfast Club first started,
Kay took the responsibility of getting
Don roused, fed, and out of the house
with a smile on his face. Now it's the
boys' job, and both Don and the kids
love it.
You'll find them lined up at the nar-
row curving table that faces the yellow-
curtained bay window, looking out on
the big back yard which becomes, in
successive seasons, a baseball diamond,
a gridiron, a winter sports playground
and a basketball court.
Though you face west, you get the im-
pression of floods of sunshine, for the
room is designed to bring dawn in early.
WALLS are white, and the trim yellow.
The big, solid, modern dining table
behind the little group has the rich
golden tone of the white mahogany that
decorators call prima vera. The deeply
cushioned chairs are upholstered in a
silvery shade of green that most closely
matches a distant forest in the spring.
You might, some typical morning,
hear Don ask, "Tommy, what are you
going to do when you grow up?" He
has seen that answer being lived out
over thirteen years, but he wants it in
his son's own words.
There's a map of old Erin on the boy's
round face, and a thatch of red hair to
top it.
"I think I'll be a mechanical engineer,
an architect and an artist."
"Donny?"
Slight, wiry and intense, the second in
line has a reply on the tip of his tongue.
"I'm going to be an All- American foot-
ball player."
For big Don, that's the echo of a child-
hood aspiration which illness blocked.
One lad remains on the roll call.
Though only seven, the youngest al-
ready does tricks with words. He could,
eventually, repeat Don's own major in
journalism.
"Bobby?"
It's an elfin grin the leprechauns
themselves could have loved that the
small one turns to him.
"I'm going to be an engineer on a
streamliner. I'm going to take big trains
over the mountains and past cowboys
and Indians and soldiers. I'm going to
run them faster than they've ever run
before . . ."
He stops. His dream outdistances his
voice.
Don encourages, "That's quite a job,
isn't it?"
Bobby considers. "I suppose so." Then
the grin breaks through again. "I know
what. I'll go on radio. Then I'll never
have to work. I'll just talk."
They have, in a day when metropoli-
tan living leaves many youngsters with
only a vague idea of how their fathers
earn the family bread and butter, an
old-fashioned apprenticeship relation
to work.
It's in keeping with traditions of the
clan. Back in Kenosha, Wisconsin, Don
trailed his father, Harry, around the
family's furniture factory. Harry, in
turn, had learned the business from
his father, Tom.
The same father-to-son chain has
been carried on in the McNeills' major
trw Ignorance and Yruiem
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Famous Model Reveals
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hobby. The ancestor, Tom, working for
wild-life conservation in a day when
many regarded fish and game as limit-
less, earned a reputation as the Izaak
Walton of Wisconsin. Don and his
father go on fishing trips together
today, and they are passing on the lore,
to the boys.
Don McNeill, the father, leaves Don
McNeill, the star, at the studio.
Other members of the Breakfast Club
cast tell you that when they get together
for a party and play charades, as they
frequently do, Don McNeill is the guy
who turns into the curtain puller, or sits
on the sidelines and constitutes a highly
appreciative audience for their antics.
They also remind you that few per-
sons realize how shy, studious and
quiet he is once his daily performance
is over.
Though master of his own house, he's
no tyrant. He leaves the boys room to
grow and tries to help them meet those
special problems which face the sons of
a celebrated father.
For such children do have problems.
Tommy summed it up when asked,
"What's the toughest part of being
Don McNeill's son?"
Tommy's face was solemn and his
voice serious. "People expect an
awful lot of us."
AT thirteen, he understands how every
action falls under the glaring ex-
aggeration of the spotlight. If a young
McNeill gets a C in spelling, he's
labeled stupid! If he pulls a girl's pig-
tails, he's a young fiend; if he raids the
neighbor's apple tree, he's a potential
delinquent. Normal mischief can as-
sume serious proportions.
Don works to meet this threat.
He believes that if all youngsters had
a chance to work off their surplus
energy in athletics and outdoor sports,
there would be no juvenile delinquents.
He finds time to join his boys in their
play. Late afternoon usually finds the
four of them engaged in a miniature
basketball game out in that big back
yard, with the housekeeper, Gladys
Rockwell as referee. Gladys, in addi-
tion to being able to cook, boasts a
physical education major from La-
Crosse Teachers College, and one of her
own sons is high school basketball star.
Don's associates at the studio will also
tell you he knows more about the boys'
school work than most fathers do.
Notice, when listening to his shows, how
patly he questions a boy or girl. Usu-
ally he seems to know exactly just
what school interests a child of a cer-
tain age will have.
The boys' hobbies rated equal to Don's
own great enthusiasm for fishing when
the McNeills planned the remodel-
ing of the newly purchased Winnetka
house.
Don's special room is the first floor
den, paneled in red burled birch which
his father helped select, and furnished
with red leather chairs, a curved desk
and a built-in gin rummy table. Cab-
inets, lining one wall, provide space for
fishing tackle, guns and ammunition.
Tommy's room was equipped with a
desk boasting a special drawing board
that swings out of the way when he
wants to work on his stamp collection.
Donny's room has storage space for his
assortment of match-book covers.
Bobby's quarters allow for orderly dis-
posal of his collection of toy soldiers,
guns, knives and locks.
Best of all, each room was given a
secret compartment for the safekeeping
of those special treasures every boy
hoards.
It's Kay who stars at home. She earns
her right to that stardom by living for
them all.
When Kay appears on the Breakfast
Club, Don carries the show. At home,
the roles are reversed. Kay is a born
stage manager.
She'll tell you that they do little en-
tertaining. Because of the early pro-
gram, night life at the McNeills' begins
with dinner at 6 P.M., and ends prompt-
ly at 10.
Their friends say, however, that when
the McNeills do entertain, everyone has
a magnificently good time.
Even the big housewarming was fun.
Nearly a hundred guests splashed
through a late fall rain, when the re-
decorating of the new house finally was
finished.
First house guests to initiate the new
guest room were the Stanley Morners.
Don and Stan worked together in the
old days. The world, however, knows
Stan better as Dennis Morgan, star of
many musical pictures.
When yawns finally overpowered
reminiscences, Kay and Don proudly
ushered them to the room she likes best.
Located just at the head of the stairs,
it's a grown-up version of that pink and
blue room every girl dreams up for
herself.
Done by a sophisticated decorator,
however, the pink has become a rose,
and the blue shades to a sea green.
Quilted white chintz spreads deck the
Hollywood beds, the deep carpet is a
soft grayed-green tone, and the drapes
are the deeper sea green shade. Walls
are papered in a dainty rose, gold and
green design. Lamp shades blend into
the motif.
Morners and McNeills, climbing the
gracefully curved staircase, couldn't
help reflecting that there had been some
changes made since the days they
pinched pennies together. Expecting ohs
and ahs as they saw the room, Don
nipped a switch.
Every light in the house turned on.
That was the McNeills' introduction
to a burglar alarm system former resi-
dents of the house had installed. With
the decorating job just completed by
Bernerd Armstrong and his associate,
Virginia Andrews, Don and Kay hadn't
yet had time to discover all the mys-
teries of the house.
Neither had they found the trick for
turning off the flood of light. McNeills
and Morners ran through the rooms
snapping switches, one by one.
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The boys, next morning, restored star
status. Each one asked Dennis Morgan
for 10 autographs. Later Kay and Don
learned the youngsters were good busi-
ness men. They sold them to their
friends for a dime apiece.
When the McNeills returned the visit
in Hollywood, the Morner children
didn't repeat the autograph stunt, but
they did bring all their pals In to meet
their father's friends.
Through it all, the McNeills have an
abundant stock of old-fashioned loving
kindness.
Louise Murphy, wife of Bob Murphy,
one of the Breakfast Club announcers,
recalls with gratitude Kay's help the
day they moved from Chicago to Wil-
mette.
What to do with the four young
Murphys almost had Louise stumped.
In the midst of the turmoil, Kay drove
up, scooped Dennis, six, Kay, four, and
Mary Jane, two, into her car. Six-
month-old Joan couldn't leave Louise,
or Kay would have taken her, too.
Throughout the day, Kay and the boys
cared for the children, took them to a
nearby pool to wade, and brought them
to their new home with gifts to recall
the day. Dennis had a Boy Scout flash-
light and compass. The two girls shared
a big, beautiful blonde doll, complete
with wardrobe, including a fur-trimmed
coat.
The doll had a ready-made name, too.
But, Louise adds, somewhere on the
road back that name got lost. The little
girls have never called it anything but
Kay.
One of Don's greatest satisfactions
comes from the Breakfast Clubbers'
letters which begin: "I know you're a
Methodist because . . ." "You must be
a Christian Scientist . . ." "You're an
Episcopalian, aren't you . . ." Through-
out the year, almost every organized
religious group will be named many
times.
Actually, as their families were be-
fore them, the McNeills are Roman
Catholics, members of the Faith, Hope
and Charity parish in Winnetka. The
two older boys serve at the altar. Faith-
ful in his attendance, even Don's be-
loved fishing trips are planned to permit
him to go to Mass. With his religion, as
with many other things important to
him, he keeps his inner life to himself.
Others find him a sympathetic lis-
tener when they have troubles, but he
seldom shares his own. When Tommy
caught polio last Summer, he had been
in the hospital two days before members
of the Breakfast Club cast learned of it.
Even after they found out, it became
something they didn't discuss with Don.
Finally, when the crisis had passed,
and the rumor of the boy's illness had
reached the newspapers, Don, during
the show, asked Maestro Eddie Ballen-
tine to play "Smoke, Smoke, Smoke,"
adding, "It's for a good friend of mine,
now in the hospital. It's one of his
favorite numbers."
The music finished, he explained to
the Breakfast Club audience, "That good
friend happens to be my son, Tom.
We've had a little trouble in our family.
Tom has polio. But, thank God, the
doctors say he is going to be all right."
The prayer of the McNeills and the
listeners have been answered. Tom is
all right today. Look at those wide
shoulders in the Radio Mirror pictures,
and you'd swear he had never been
sick a day in his life.
You listeners, the American Broad-
casting Company, and the sponsors have
asked many times that the whole
McNeill family become a regular part
of the Breakfast Club show.
You'll understand now, I think, why
Don hasn't acceded to these wishes. At
least not just yet. Kay is now under
contract for regular appearances, but
the boys' studio visits are still limited
to a few times a year.
He wants to give the boys a chance
for a normal childhood. He wants them
to grow and mature, and develop a
sense of values before they get caught
up in the whirl of big-time broadcast-
ing.
If he can help it, Don McNeill isn't
going to let anything jeopardize that
little family growing up in Winnetka.
Part of Kay's starring role in the
home stems from the elegant specialty-
of-the-house dishes she's fond of serv-
ing up to a hungry horde of McNeill
men. Here's her recipe for a favorite
family treat:
Coffee Cake.
'/2 cup butter 2 fsp. baking powder
2 cups sugar I fsp. vanilla
4 eggs, well beaten '/j tsp. salt
3 cups sifted flour
Cream butter well, adding sugar and
eggs. Sift salt, baking powder and flour
together. Add to butter mixture, al-
ternating with milk and vanilla.
Filling
2 cups brown sugar l'/2 fsp. melted butter
2 tablespoons flour 2 tsp. cinnamon
I cup nut meats (optional)
Cream sugar and butter. Add other
ingredients. In a greased pan, put one
layer of batter, then a layer of filling,
until you have five layers. Bake at 375
degrees for 20 minutes.
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TRUE ROMANCE Magazine
Twenty Questions
(Continued jrom page 41)
Dad and Mom had recovered from their
anxiety about their guest's injured feel-
ings, they realized that Nancy had hit on
quite an idea.
Van was so excited about it that he
promptly took the suggestion to the
Mutual Broadcasting System and they
started auditions for the program imme-
diately.
The past two years have told the rest
of the story.
When they are away from the radio
studio, the Vanderventers quickly for-
get their public life. They live in a
lovely rambling ranch-type house in
Princeton, New Jersey, close to Prince-
ton University. Florence does all her
own cooking. She does all her own
gardening as well, but refuses to grow
the green onions — scallions — that Van
adores. A considerate, loving wife in
every respect, she draws the line at
green onions for what she thinks are
pretty good reasons.
Blue-eyed, sandy-haired Bobby "Mc-
Guire" Vanderventer, now sixteen, is an
average student at Princeton High
School. When he is there, Bobby never
mentions his radio work and is pro-
foundly embarrassed if other students
or teachers bring it up. Like most teen-
agers, one of Bobby's greatest desires is
to be just like all his other friends.
ILTHOUGH he could probably main-
il tain a brilliant scholastic average,
Bobby spends so much time on extra-
curricular activities, especially with the
Boy Scouts, that his grades are just
average. But both his parents feel that
they'd much rather have an all-around
son than a quiz kid in the house, so they
let Bobby lead his own, very busy life.
Nancy, their daughter, is two years
older than Bob. She has substituted
for him on Twenty Questions during the
summers when he has been away on
Boy Scout affairs. Many listeners have
noticed the remarkable resemblance be-
tween Nancy's crisp microphone per-
sonality and that of her father. She
looks very much like her Dad too and
has his dynamic, restless nature.
Fair -haired, petite, and attractive
Florence Rinard comes from Farmlands,
Indiana — that's just sixty miles from
Van's home town of Tipton, Indiana.
They didn't meet however until Flor-
ence, then a supervisor of music for
several Indiana schools, attended a High
School Music Convention in Chicago.
There, a sorority sister introduced her
to a dark, energetic newspaperman who
was working for a prominent Chicago
newspaper.
He was very anxious to take her on a
tour of the city because she had never
been there before. By the time their
sight-seeing jaunt was over, they had
forgotten about local points of interest
and were concentrating on each other.
Four months later Florence married the
newspaperman Fred Vanderventer, and
started on a life that has had its ups and
downs but has never been dull.
After her marriage to Van, Florence
gave up her job as a music supervisor
and teacher. Things went well for a
while, but by the time Bobby was born
and Nancy was two years old, the
nation-wide depression hit its lowest
point. And so did the Vanderventers.
It is significant and typical of them
that at this point Van and Florence put
their heads together and came up with
a scheme that had them working side
Love-quiz
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by side in a desperate effort to keep
their family going. They teamed up,
making pies and cakes in their own
kitchen which they marketed through
local bakeries. They also made fudge
at home, wrapped it in cellophane, and
Van sold it to local cigar and candy
stores.
For Van it was a far cry from his
journalistic career; for Florence there
was no music in the job but it kept them
together and it kept them going at a
time when anything less than heroic
effort would have broken up the family.
Later on, things began to pick up for
the Vanderventers. They moved to De-
troit and it was there that Van started
his radio newscasting. After a few years,
Van was transferred to the New York
studios of MBS.
The Vanderventers started to play
semi-educational games at meal times
when Nancy and Bobby were both very
young. They found it to be a painless
way to keep the children well informed
as well as to divert them while they
ate their spinach. Even today they en-
joy these home practice sessions. It
keeps them in trim, and although they
do not stress it, there is a certain amount
of competition among members of the
family to see who can get most answers.
THE radio program Twenty Questions
as they worked it out is a kind of re-
verse quiz in which the panel of ex-
perts asks the master of ceremonies any
number up to twenty questions, to
which he answers "yes" or "no." From
these answers they have to deduce the
subject they are seeking. Here in
their exact words is the way in which
the five-man panel ferreted out the sub-
ject "The Slingshot with which David
killed the Giant Goliath." After the
studio and listening audiences had been
secretly informed of the topic by a
placard to the studio and an off-stage
microphone to the home listeners, the
questions and answers began.
Bob: Is it wearing apparel?
Master of Ceremonies Bill Slater: No.
Florence: Is it manufactured?
Bill: Yes, you might say that.
Herb: Is it connected with the circus?
Bill: No.
Guest, Clown Emmet Kelly: Is it an
article of clothing?
Bill: No it is not. You already asked
whether it was wearing apparel.
Van: Is it used by man?
Bill: Yes.
Florence: Is it edible?
Bill: No.
Bobby: Is it something connected with
the past?
Bill: Yes.
Van: Is it famous for the person with
whom it is connected?
Bill: Yes.
Florence: Was this person with whom it
is connected a man?
Bill: Yes.
Van: Was this man connected with the
government?
Bill: No.
Herb: Was he in mythology?
Bill: No.
Bobby: Was he an ancient character?
Bill: Yes, very.
Florence: Was he biblical?
Bill: Yes. Now you're really on the
right track.
Florence: Was he in the Old Testament?
Bill: Yes.
Bobby: Was it David's slingshot.
Bill: Yes. You got it!
At the beginning, Van was the only
member of the family scheduled for the
show. At the last minute, one of the
scheduled participants wired that she
would not be able to attend the audi-
tion. Florence pitched in, and has
been there ever since, under her maiden
name of Florence Rinard.
Bobby Vanderventer, then thirteen,
took an audition, and like his mother,
clicked immediately. He, too, changed
his name, and used that of his maternal
grandmother on the air. As Bobby Mc-
Guire he has scored some wonderful
answers and holds the all time record
for the show by guessing the category,
"Brooklyn Dodgers" on the very first
question. It seems that when the
placard reading "Brooklyn Dodgers"
was shown to the studio audience they
let out such a roar of laughter that
Bobby, a baseball fan himself, took his
striking guess.
Outside of the Vanderventers, the
only other permanent member of the
panel is Herb Polesie, radio and mo-
tion picture producer. Herb is a quick
man with a spontaneous joke and has
continually delighted audiences with his
dry wit and unexpected answers.
For Herb, Twenty Questions is a fam-
ily program too. Although Herb's
mother-in-law has never been heard
on the air, she is a minor celebrity.
Invariably when a tricky topic is under
discussion, Herb asks: "Is it something
I would give to my mother-in-law?"
Bill Slater, the tall, white-haired
quiz-master of Twenty Questions, is
known affectionately off the air as the
"Colonel." He studied at West Point and
his checkered career has ranged from
that of a radio sports announcer to
headmaster of a select Long Island boys'
school. Bill also has his family in on
the proceedings. His attractive wife
prepares all his notes, and does the
library research on the subjects the pro-
gram covers.
IT is very important for Bill to be
scrupulously accurate in his answers
to the panel. One wrong or even semi-
correct reply might throw them com-
pletely off the track, and though he is
one of the best ad-libbers in radio, Bill
is often on the spot on Twenty Ques-
tions. For example, when he was asked
if the subject "The Spike on the Devil's
Tail" was human he answered after a
little hesitation . . . "well, not quite
human."
Bill likes to avoid any confusing
answers for two reasons. If he leads
them astray, the Vanderventers and
Herb will rush up to him after the
broadcast and lay the blame for missing
a topic right in his lap. Then after he
has quieted their incensed feelings, he
spends the rest of the week reading
hundreds of letters from equally angry
listeners who accuse him of doing the
panel an injustice.
It is pretty certain that the audience
at home and in the studio is pulling one
hundred percent for the panel. How-
ever, in the studio the roars of approval
at a good guess and the roars of dis-
approval at a bad one are likely to
sound very much alike to the harried
panel members. After long experience
they have learned to ignore the sounds
from the audience and concentrate.
From an all-around standpoint, con-
centration is the most important thing
on the program.
Since the program started, two and
one-half years ago, the categories have
become progressively more difficult. The
early subjects were fairly simple items
such as "Truman's Piano," "The Atom
Bomb," or "Joe DiMaggio's Bat." Now
however the subjects are more com-
plex. Typical of these is "The Golden
Book in which the Angel Wrote" from
the poem Abou Ben Adhem, or "The
Thorn In the Lion's Foot" from the
legend of Androcles and the Lion. All
the topics are sent in by listeners. They
are taken from literature, current
events, proverbs, history, famous per-
sonalities or places, and just about
anything else that might be fairly com-
mon knowledge.
Generally the panel prefers subjects
that have a direct connection with a
famous individual. If, for example, they
can pin down the fact that the topic
has something to do with John L. Lewis,
it is a very easy and logical step to the
conclusion that they are after John L.
Lewis' Eyebrows.
The hardest items for the panel to get
are the ones they call "class categories."
By this they mean subjects that have no
personal, or fictional associations.
"To get a subject like the one we had
recently, 'A Can Opener,' is practically
impossible," says Van. "Once we got
to the point where we knew we were
after some kitchen utensil, we were
sunk. With no further clues to go on,
we could have named every pot, pan,
knife and fork in a typical kitchen
before we reached the 'Can Opener.'
These class categories are haphazard
guesses to us, and the audience is al-
ways surprised when we miss them be-
cause they seem so easy."
DURING its two years on the air,
Twenty Questions has won a number
of laurels. The program has been hon-
ored by the American College Associa-
tion for its educational value. The
National Parent and Teachers Organi-
zation has given it top rating as recom-
mended listening. For two years it has
received a blue ribbon for excellence
from the New Jersey State Fair Com-
mittee, and Fred Vanderventer has re-
ceived an honorary degree as a Doctor
of Letters from Ryder College in New
Jersey. In addition to all of this recog-
nition, Twenty Questions has inspired
several imitators, which as the saying
goes, is the sincerest form of flattery.
The British Broadcasting Company
developed a popular quiz modeled after
our American program. There are also
radio versions of the game in France
and Japan. Radio Tokyo calls its quiz
Twenty Doors. All of this attention and
success has left the Vanderventers' life
surprisingly untouched.
Florence and Van are still as modest
as they were in the days when they
had to sell fudge to candy stores. They
think that they have been very lucky
for the most part, and the fact that
their names are household words all
across the country has not affected their
way of life.
Usually, on Sunday afternoons, there
are several of the Vanderventers'
neighbors in the living room. Most
guests drop in for a few minutes and
end up by staying a few hours. They
very frequently play games, because it
would be hard to resist an invitation to
play and compete with America's prime
parlor professors.
Florence has gotten used to the fact
that some of her precious vases and
lamps are bound to be knocked around
when Van's enthusiasm for the game of
charades gets a little out of hand. She is
also used to the rumpus in the rumpus
room when Van and Bobby get to-
gether for another session in their end-
less ping-pong tournament. And Nancy
may bring sixteen of her "very best
friends" home for a party, but it's all
in a -full day at the Vanderventers.
when you're getting a sneeze instead of a squeeze . . .
IMPROVED-SOFTER
THAN EVER
© 1948, Sitroux ln«.
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Radio's Number
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(Continued from page 29)
to recognize and like the eager, but
always well-behaved youngster, and to
feed him bits of news not available to
the general public.
Gratefully, Bill saved every scrap of
information. By summer's end he had
compiled a complete and up-to-the-
minute file of every single audience
show originating in New York City. Bill
still faithfully puts in time every week
on this compendium revising and cor-
recting it as changes occur and the
chances are that he's better informed on
events in radio than many an editor.
When school re-opened in the fall,
Bill continued to attend programs in
the afternoon and evenings. On Sat-
urdays and Sundays he caught shows
from 9:00 A.M. to as late as 11:00 P.M.,
polishing off his homework between
shows. And when he quit school in the
sixth term to go to work, due to strait-
ened family finances, he continued to
follow this routine.
THE surprising part of it is that Bill's
interest hasn't the slightest material-
istic taint. He's no hero-worshipper
or autograph-hunter, nor is he mer-
cenarily inclined. As a matter of fact,
he has a strong dislike for quiz shows,
especially those which award prizes.
With the true zeal of the simon-pure
amateur, he abhors the "semi-pro"
characters who haunt the studios.
Bill knows just as definitely what he
does like. His favorite forms of radio
entertainment are, in the order named:
Dramatic, Comedy, Semi-Classical
Music and Popular Music. His first
choice in dramatic shows is Studio One,
with Theater Guild On The Air a close
runner-up. Bill rates Fred Allen, Henry
Morgan and Milton Berle the best com-
ics on the air, in that order. In the field
of semi-classical music, Bill is equally
fond of Morton Gould, Andre Kostel-
anetz and Fred Waring.
Though he is too modest to make any
such pronouncement himself, Bill's
tastes reflect an admiration for proven
competence and, above all, obvious sin-
cerity on the part of radio people.
Bill even owes his present job to
radio, if only indirectly. About a year
ago, while temporarily unemployed, he
was, as usual, wandering through the
corridors of NBC, between shows. It
was there that his present employer
found, questioned and hired him. Bill
now is an errand boy and apprentice
photographer for Camera Associates, a
commercial photography firm which
does work for radio shows, advertising
agencies and for Radio Mirror.
You'd think after spending so much
of his time in radio studios that Bill
would be dying to get into radio. But
it just isn't so. Bill's ambitions are
centered in photography and his bosses
say that he is naturally bright and
shows a real aptitude for the camera.
Bill had a girl once who had the mak-
ings of a true radio fan, he thought.
But she insisted on dragging him to
every Frank Sinatra broadcast.
"Shirley would sit there and scream
and sigh," Bill recalls scornfully. "I
didn't mind sitting through a Sinatra
program — he has a fair voice — but when
she had the nerve to ask me to fight my
way through a mob of crazy bobby-
soxers to get an autograph from The
Voice for her, that was the end!"
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Traveler of the Month
(Continued from page 61)
daughter of a dancing girl forgot the in-
trigues of the palace and learned to be
happy.
Then, on the same sort of night that
had hidden their flight to the farm,
Grace's brother slipped out into the jun-
gle. Grace told me that he had never
forgotten his Mohammedan training,
and that he made his way back to Bho-
pal.
Soon after that, there were reports
that Grace's brother, with family pride
at stake, was organizing a force to re-
turn to the Himalayas, seize Grace and
take her to Bhopal.
No chances were taken, and Grace
was sent to America. Shortly after that,
the Strong family also came to America,
to buy machinery that was needed for
the farm. The Strongs met Grace in
New York and took her with them to
their old home at Atlantic, Iowa.
The Strongs told me that they had "no
salary, or means of our own." Just how
they were going to buy all the expensive
farm machinery was a mystery — that is,
until all of the good people back in At-
lantic heard their story. Stocking that
distant, mountain farm became a com-
munity project, and every last piece of
needed equipment was bought.
"Just how are you going to get all of
that equipment back to your farm?" I
asked.
"Well," said Mrs. Strong, "we'll go
right with it — can't afford to lose it — on
the boat to Bombay. Once there, instead
of taking a chance on the Indian rail-
roads, we'll load the family and camp
equipment in a camp trailer, hook the
trailer and our new threshing machine
on back of our new tractor — and drive
1,000 miles to our farm."
I looked past our ABC microphone
at the Strongs, at their three blond
youngsters, three, four and seven years
old, at slim, reserved Grace. I tried to
imagine this troupe of pioneers churn-
ing their way through 1,000 miles of bad
roads, no roads, and jungle, with a patch
of land, just reclaimed from the tigers,
as their destination.
These indeed were travelers whom I
was proud to welcome, and honored to
meet.
"I'd like to ask you, Grace," I said, "if
you have any plans for the future."
"Yes," she replied, with a proud smile
aimed at the Strongs. "Yes, I plan to be
a missionary myself, and work with
other children."
I'm sure I was speaking for millions
of Americans when I wished Grace God-
speed, and said we'd never forget her.
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99
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100
Coast to Coast in
Television
(Continued from page 55)
"The Games the Thing," "Are you
Game," "Games are Peachy," "Come
into my Parlor," and "Ain't We Got
Fun." At least then you have the cold
comfort of knowing that it was a good
idea. Last but not least — not likely
either — they may consider it a very
workable idea, the first of its kind, suit-
able for NBT at this time, in fact they'd
like to give it a whirl. A word of cau-
tion at this point, do not do a broken
field run to your local real estate sales-
man, Lincoln Automobile showroom,
or mink coat salon — put a cold com-
press on your head and repeat "I've
seen too many movies" one hundred
times. Mr. Davis will explain to you
that they will take an option on your
show and hold it for that time when
they find themselves with a half hour
to fill. They will push your program
into that slot and see how it goes. When
that happy day arrives, the show will
be put into the capable hands of either
Mr. Ed Sobol or Mr. Fred Coe, who will
supervise all the details of actually
getting it to the television screen.
It is obvious, is it not, that before you
venture into television you must arm
yourself with infinite patience, an inde-
structible nervous system, and a sup-
plementary form of income?
* * *
The Dumont talent auditions certainly
are the answer to a hopeful's prayer.
Here is no brush-off, but a sincere effort
to help talent break into television.
Anyone who is ambitious along those
lines can send a description of his spe-
cialty, experience, and background —
along with a couple of pictures — to
Dumont Auditions, 515 Madison Avenue,
New York City. If they think you have
any possibility for video you will get an
audition under real broadcasting condi-
tions— lights, cameras, director, and
everything.
* * *
The sensation of the video world back
in April was the over 60,000 requests
for tickets which poured into WNBT
for "Howdy Doody" buttons. Bob
Smith's popular puppet is running for
President, and if the kids had a vote
he'd probably be the next occupant of
the White House. This is probably the
largest response to a television show
yet. NBT originally ordered only 5,000
of the buttons — which have a picture of
"Howdy" and proclaim "I'm for Howdy
Doody."
* * *
If you notice that the men on tele-
vision look very natty and well pressed
these days, you can thank the Men's
Fashion Guild of America. This outfit
decided to raise the sartorial standards
of video men and they did it in a very
clever way. They established a "clothes
bank" which makes available to all
actors and commentators working be-
fore the video cameras a complete
wardrobe of men's apparel and acces-
sories. Bert Bacharach, men's fashion
commentator who started the whole
idea, stated when the bank first went
into operation: "It is even more impor-
tant that the man who appears on a
television screen be properly dressed;
for unlike other actors, he is visiting
private homes."
* * *
Part of Owen Davis, Jr's. WNBT job
is television programming and casting.
One of his largest casting chores is the
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Theater Guild dramatic presentation.
He tells this funny story about the time
just recently when he was lining up
Gertrude Lawrence for a Guild video
appearance. Davis went over to the
Theater Guild office to meet Miss
Lawrence and talk about her part in
"The Great Catherine." The Guild
occupies an old brownstone house in
West 53rd Street, New York City. While
Davis waited inside, someone acciden-
tally locked the outer door. Miss
Lawrence drove up in a taxi and
knocked at the door for a long while,
but could not be heard. She gave up
and returned to the street to catch an-
other cab. Several children in the
neighborhood accustomed to seeing de-
jected actors and actresses leaving the
Guild after auditions, hooted at her:
"Yea-yea-yea. You didn't get the 'job,
did you?"
Paramount Pictures' television sta-
tion, KTLA, is doing a video version of
the rogues' gallery. In cooperation with
the Los Angeles police, they flash pic-
tures of criminals on the television
screen for five minutes every evening.
They do the same with pictures of miss-
ing persons.
* * *
Television is making itself felt in
politics already. The big Republican
and Democratic elections are being held
in Philadelphia primarily because it is
a television center and an excellent
place from which to feed the East Coast.
The conventions are being covered by
the first "pool" operation in video his-
tory. The big networks take turns
supervising the shooting on the con-
vention floor and the results are fed to
all the stations. Each individual station
will monitor and cut programs as it sees
fit. All the networks will send special
correspondents to Philadelphia to get
exclusive video interview and human
interest features. NBC took over a
dormitory of the University of Penn-
sylvania to house its technical crews.
Special films will be rushed daily by
plane to all areas that cannot pick up
the direct television broadcasts from
Philly. Three to four million people
are expected to view the convention
telecasts, according to Carleton D.
Smith, Manager of NBC Television. Top
NBC newsmen from New York, Wash-
ington, Chicago, Cleveland, Denver,
Hollywood, and San Francisco have
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101
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been assigned to regional "grass roots"
coverage of the conclaves. I asked what
would be done about the conflict, if any,
between the convention and the Louis-
Walcott fight on June 23rd. Mr. Smith
said they expected that the convention
sessions would be in recess by the time
the fight goes over the air — 10:00 P.M.
* * *
ABC, which will resume its New
York tele operations soon, has in the
meantime enlarged its WENR-TV staff
in Chicago and closed a deal to ex-
change film programs with Radiodiffu-
sion Francaise. In this way the best
television work done in France will be
made available to Chicago audiences.
Deal calls for the exchange of video
films covering news, entertainment,
special events, etc.
Back in the May issue we told about
how difficult it was to do a remote tele
show because of the bushels of red
tape involved. We pointed out that
John Reed King's Missus Goes A-Shop-
ping had to obtain about seven different
permits each week to do the program
from supermarkets. Now the New
York City government is working
closely with broadcasters to make it
simple to carry out any and all video
operations.
* * *
Television is apparently going to
open up a whole new field for mashers.
Joan Kerwin, of Dumont's Swing into
Sports, received a letter recently from
an anonymous man, who told her how
mad he was about her from watching
her on her video show. He instructed
her to pass her hand across her hair in
a special way when she first appeared
on "Sports" the following week — that
would be his signal to write again and
set up a time and place to meet. The
Dumont boys were kiddingly urging
Joan to do it — just to see what would
develop, but Miss K. very definitely
kept her hands out of her hair — and
hopes to keep the ardent letter writer
out of it too.
* * *
It has been found that television re-
ceivers put into hotel rooms actually
make money for the hotel. This is why:
visitors stay in their rooms instead of
going out for fun; have friends in, and
the room service charges zoom from a
$35 average per room per month to
$175 — people who watch television
order cigars, liquor, beer, and food. The
Roosevelt, Taft, and New Yorker hotels
are all-out for video!
* * *
WGN-TV in Chicago is planning an
extremely interesting show in coopera-
tion with the American Medical So-
ciety— which meets at Northwestern
University during the week of June
21st through 25th. WGN-TV will tele-
vise an operation — step-by-step.
* * *
There have been a lot of jokes re-
cently about how embarrassing it is to
be televised at a dinner, parade, or
sporting event when you are not aware
that you are making a video debut. To
avoid embarrassments, libel suits, and
even divorce suits, NBC has had a spe-
cial card printed, to be placed among
the audience of any event being tele-
vised. The card reads:
YOU ARE BEING TELEVISED
— Portions of this program are being
televised by the National Broadcasting
Company and recipients of these cards
are in direct range of the television
cameras. May we respectfully call to
your attention the fact that during this
broadcast you will be in full view of
the television audience. Thank you.
Nobody today need go through life with the
handicap of a badly shaped nose or other dis-
figured features. In "YOUR NEW FACE IS
YOUR FORTUNE," a fascinating new book
by a noted Plastic Surgeon, he shows how
simple corrections "remodel" the badly shaped
nose, take years off the prematurely aged face.
INCLUDES 90 ACTUAL BEFORE-AND-
AFTER PHOTOS. Book sent,
postpaid, in plain wrapper for only
^
FRANKLIN HOUSE. BOOKS
1102 Fox Bids., Philadelphia 3, Pa. Dtpt. 3-F
WANT TO BE
A PRACTICAL
aamHg
,/^^XT ACT NOW— HELP FILL THE NEED
IV^V ^t Now you can prepare for practical experience
asa Trained Practical Nurse in spare time.
Many earn while learning. Ages 18 to 56. High
■* school not necessary. Easy payments. Write
for free information and sample lesson pages.
WAYNE SCHOOL OF PRACTICAL NURSING, INC.
2301 N.Wayne Ave., Desk G29, CHICAGO 14, ILL.
iASTf
MAKE
MONEY
FAST
SOMETHING NEW AND SENSATIONAL IN
CHRISTMAS CARDS —
Gorgeous Satin &Velour Designs I
Show Rich New Satin and Velour Cardsf
never before offered. AmazineVala
Gets orders fasti Gorgeous Christmas 1
Cards with name. 50 for $1 up. Pays up [
to 100% profit. Imprinted Stationery. 20
others, 60c to $1, Samples on Approval.
PUR0C0..2801 Locust, Dept. 815-J,St.Louis.Mo.
Ingrown NAIL
•*dl ""us* a ^ew drops of soothing Dr.
Scholl's ONIXOL relieves sore-
's ness, pain. Softens embedded part
i Hs|f of nail for easy removal. Get a
1 JsSr DO**'e today. Sold everywhere.
'. _j*£lJ
DrSchol/s ONIXOL
LEG SUFFERERS
Why continue to suffer without attempt-
ing to do something? Write today for New
Booklet— "THE LIEPE METHODS FOR
HOME USE." It tells about Varicose
Ulcers and Open Leg Sores. Llepe Methods
used while you walk. More than 40 years of
success. Praised and en-
dorsed by multitudes.
LIEPE M ETH 0DS, 3284 N. Green Bay Ave.,
Dept. 21 -G Milwaukee, Wisconsin
FREE
BOOKLET
LOOSE DENTAL PLATES
RELINED AND TIGHTENED AT HOME $1.00
NEWLY IMPROVED DENDEX RELINER, a
plastic, builds up (refits) loose upper and
lower dentures. Really makes them fit as
they should without using powder. Easily
applied. No heating required. Brush it on
and wear your plates while it sets. It ad-
heres to the plates only and makes a
comfortable, smooth and durable surface
that can be washed and scrubbed. Each
application lasts for months. Not a powder
. . or wax. Contains no rubber or gum. Neu-
tral pink color. Sold on MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE. Not
sold in stores. Mail $1 for generous supply, brush and
directions and we pay postage. Charges extra on C.O.D.
orders. Proved by 10 years of Consumer Use
DENDEX COMPANY, Dept. 77
2024 West 6th Street • Los Angeles 5, Calif.
I Asthma attacks without warning—
prepared with Asthmador Cigarettes,
Powder or Pipe Mix— for relief from the
painful, suffocating paroxysms. Breathe
Asthmador's aromatic, medicated fumes
and you'll find this time-tested inhalant
I tops for convenience and dependability,
At all drug stores
DR. R. SCHIFFMANN'S
nSTHIHnDOR
EYE-GENE
SAFELY Relieves TIRED, SMARTING
EYES In SECONDS!
Wonderful EYE-GENE! Just
two drops in your eyes that are
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or smoke — will relieve, rest,
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Use it every day. EYE-GENE
is safe and gentle. 25^, 600, and
$1 eye-dropper
bottles at X^^^K
Drueeists f* Guaranteed by «\
t„„;„* „„ V Good Housekeeping J „
Insist on \» '<£/ Snap back with
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ANY PHOTO ENLARGED
37*
to Size 8x10 Inches
on DOUBLE-WEIGHT Paper
SAME PRICE for full length or bast
form, groups, landscapes, pet ani-
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Professional Art Studios, 100 E.Ohio St., Dept.1558HR,Chicago 11, III.
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GENERAL CONTEST MAGAZINE
1609 East 5th St. Dept. 31E Duluth 5, Minn.
NEW
PLAN
SUIT YOURS
Earn CASH Showing to FriendsS
Write at once If you want this fine made-to-meas-
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bonus suit helps yon take more orders with latest style,
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—■telling about yourself— age, etc. No obligation— act nowl
PIONEER TAILORING COMPANY
Congress and Throop Streets, Dept. G1235, Chicago, III.
H
-"'-'
Just Send Your Name and Address
We will mail you this beautiful GLOW-
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showing many VALUABLE GIFTS that
are GIVEN with FULL INFORMA-
TION on HOW TO RECEIVE THEM.
Enclose stamp or coin for mailing
GLOWING CROSS.
THE RELIGIOUS HOUSE, Dept. MAC,
7002 N. Clark St. Chicago 26. III.
Has a New Love
Brunette Suzy Mulli-
gan, glamorous Con-
over model famous for
her petal -fresh com-
plexion, has fallen in
love with the beauty-
magic of Edna Wallace
Hopper White Clay
Pack. You, too, will
love the way your tired
face responds to the
quick pick-up of this
white cream clay. And
it's so easy to use.
Simply smooth on— let
dry about 8 minutes — rinse off, and thrill to
your new look of radiance — of fresh, clear
glowing loveliness that men adore. Get
Hopper White Clay Pack today. Make it your
twice-weekly "beauty special." And for every-
day care, use Edna Wallace Hopper Homo-
genized Facial Cream. At cosmetic counters.
Green Stuff
{Continued from page 65)
heat. Stir until gelatine is dissolved.
Turn into an 8-inch ring mold. Chill
in refrigerator until firm. Unmold on
platter. Garnish with watercress and
fill center with chilled shrimp salad.
Makes 6 servings.
CHEESE SALAD MAIN DISH
1 tablespoon plain gelatine
V/z teaspoons salt
Dash of cayenne pepper
1% cups milk
V/z cups cottage cheese
2 tablespoons chopped green pepper
2 tablespoons chopped pimiento
4 tablespoons chopped chives or onion
Combine gelatine, salt, cayenne pepper
and milk in a saucepan. Bring slowly
to boiling over low heat. (Do not boil.)
Remove from heat and chill. When
slightly thickened, fold in remaining
ingredients. Turn into an 8 x 5 x 3-
inch loaf pan, or 8 individual molds
(custard cups may be used). Chill until
firm. Unmold and serve on crisp let-
tuce or watercress. Makes 6 to 8 serv-
ings.
BANANA CBEAM
1 cup sugar
1 cup orange juice
Juice of 1 lemon
2 cups water
6 bananas
1 cup heavy cream
Combine sugar, orange juice, lemon
juice and water. Bring to boiling and
stir until sugar is dissolved. Force
bananas through a strainer; add to
juice mixture. Cool. Pour into ice
cube tray and freeze until mushy.
Whip cream until it holds its shape
and fold into partially frozen juice
mixture. Stir twice during freezing.
Makes 10 portions.
HONEY REFRIGERATOR COOKIES
2Yz cups sifted all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
Yi teaspoon baking soda
Yz teaspoon salt
Yz cup shortening
Yz cup honey
Yz cup sugar
1 egg, slightly beaten
Y2, cup chopped nuts
Sift together flour, baking powder,
baking soda and salt. Cream shorten-
ing until soft and add honey. Gradually
beat in sugar. Add egg and beat until
light and smooth. Add nuts and mix
well. Add sifted dry ingredients and
blend until smooth. Turn out onto
waxed paper and roll into a long cyl-
inder. Roll up tight in the waxed paper
and chill in refrigerator overnight or
until firm. Slice thin, place on greased
shallow pan and bake in a hot oven
(400°F) about 10 minutes. Makes 4
dozen.
AMBROSIA ICE BOX CAKE
3 oranges
Yz cup shredded coconut, firmly packed
1 cup heavy cream, whipped
2 tablespoons confectioner's sugar
Sponge cake
Cut oranges into sections removing all
the white membrane. Drain well and
combine with coconut. Sweeten the
whipped cream with sugar and fold
into orange mixture. Line bottom of
ice cube tray with slices of sponge
cake. Pour orange mixture on top of
cake. Chill until firm. Makes 6
servings.
Relieve
Constipation
Pleasantly!
MOTHER! Your child will
enjoy this tasty laxative!
Millions of mothers have
learned from experience that chil-
dren take Ex-Lax willingly. They
love its delicious chocolate taste.
Ex-Lax is hot only pleasant-
tasting but easy-acting.
And you, Mother, can trust
Ex-Lax to give effective relief . . .
in a nice, gentle way. Not too
strong, not too weak, Ex-Lax is
the "Happy Medium" Laxative.
Ex-Lax is America's No. 1 lax-
ative— the favorite of young and
old. It's the dependable laxative
that many doctors use in their
practice. Still only 10* a box.
Economy size, 25<.
When Nature "forgets".. .remember
EX-LAX
THE CHOCOLATED LAXATIVE
EARN EXTRA MONEY! Full, Spare Time!
YOU can make many EXTRA DOLLARS with our new.
sell-on-sight Plastic Line! Tablecloths. Aprons; also many
other beautiful, fast-selling items, novelties. Postal brings
free details. No obligation. Write today. Hurry!
ROYALTY SALES CO.. Box 748, Passaic 20, New Jersey
"BC" RELIEVES
HEADACHES FAST!
Your choice —
tablet or powder
The same wonderful combination of
fast-acting ingredients in both. Quickly
soothe headaches, neuralgic pains,
minor muscular aches. Two tablets equal
one powder. On sale everywhere. Use
only as directed. Keep a package handy!
103
tlllHM
*Wvr'
to ni;ik«fc
Three new frocks to make your heart dance !
A whole, wonderful wardrobe for what
you usually spend for just one dress.
No wonder smart career gals are rushing
to get all three of these all-occasion,
all-beautiful dresses!
merrv!
^"«^^Pr
* %*W
803
EMBROIDERED BEAUTY:
Frosty white embroidery
trims the keyhole neckline
and flap pockets. With
center -full shirred skirt,
and cuffed cap sleeves, it
comes in crisp rayon faille,
in powder blue, aqua,
pink, gray, or black with
white embroidery. Sizes:
9-11-13-15-17; 10-12-14-
16-18-20.
, 802
STRIPED HONEY:
The boldly striped skirt has un-
pressed pleats all around. The
striped yoke gently folds over
into a flattering collar. In rayon
SHANDUNE, a new novelty shan-
tung. Melonjuggage, navy, powder-
blue, aqua with white. Sizes: 9-
1113-15-17; 10-12-14-16-18-20.
104
804
LACE-LOVELY:
The lace-edged ajron drape is fash-
ion's newest rage. The sweetheart
neckline and cape sleeves will make
you concretely captivating. In
butcher-like linen. Black or navy
with white Venetian lace. Sizes : 9-
11-13-15-17; 10-12-14-16-18-20.
Also in sizes 38-40-42-44 at $6,98.
SEND NO MONEY
SENT ON APPROVAL
&ieiteew £fiaA/ii<m SPAofib oept mf 75
275 Seventh Avenue, New York I, N.Y.
Send these lovely dresses on approvol. I'll pay postman the total amount
indicated, plus postage and C.O.D. charges. II not delighted, I may return any
or all dresses lor refund within ten days. In New York City add 2% Sales Tax.
Name of Dress
Size
1st Color Choice
2nd Color Choice
Price
Embroidered Beauty 603
7.98
Striped Honey 802
6.98
Lace-Lovely 604
5.98
ALLOW TWO WEEKS
OR LE
SS FOR DELIVEE
'* Total
PLEASE PRINT
NAME
ADDRESS.
_Z0NE_
-STATE-
NOTE : If you send payment with order we pay all postage charges. D
WRITE FOR FREE CATALOG J
Helen
Neushaefer
Miss and Mrs America ^
have Switched to
NailPolish
. . . the only nail polish at any price
containing the miracle, chip-proofing
ingredient . . . PLASTEEN
Thank you, Miss and Mrs. America, for making
Helen Neushaefer nail polish one of the biggest
selling in all cosmetic history. And . . . in less than two
short years.
Two years ago, Helen Neushaefer nail polish was
unheard of . . . had never been offered for sale. Today,
in store after store, town after town, city after city,
from coast-to-coast, it is the favorite nail-do of hun-
dreds of thousands of women.
Unsolicited letters, which reach my desk every day,
tell me why they switched to Helen Neushaefer nail
polish. The big reason is PLASTEEN . . . the miracle
ingredient developed by my cosmetic chemists to help
prevent chipping and peeling. No other nail polish at
any price, their letters say, lasts as long or looks as
lovely as my polish with PLASTEEN.
But PLASTEEN does far more than help prevent
chipping. It makes Helen Neushaefer nail polish go on
quicker, easier, more evenly, without annoying bubbles
. . . gives it starlike brilliance . . . makes your nails look
like ovals of rare porcelain.
NEU LOOK
Women constantly write me how they love the many
fashionable, up-to-the-minute colors . . . particularly my
newest shade . . . "Neu Look" ... a gorgeous, stylish
pink ... as beautiful as a morning sunrise.
Miss and Mrs. America also are switching to my new
lipstick with LASTEEN which I created, by popular
demand, to harmonize with the lingering loveliness of
my nail polish. Helen Neushaefer lip-
stick, too, comes in all of the day's most
popular shades including the sensational
summer shade . . . "Neu Look."
If you would like your nails to look
lovelier longer ... if you would like to
be spared the aggravation of frequent
chipping and patching . . . won't you
try Helen Neushaefer nail polish with
PLASTEEN. You'll find it in twelve
beautiful colors at your nearest chain or
drug store cosmetic counter.
At its unbelievably low price . . . only
ten cents . . . you'll be able to afford a
whole wardrobe of colors.
390 £r
with LASTEEN
in a golden-metal swivel case-
with the "Color Teller Tip"
Distributed by A. Sartorius & Co., Inc., 80 Fifth Ave., New York 11. N.Y.
Fabric Designer
agrees:
In
designing fabrics and in choosing a cigarette, EXPERIENCE IS THE BEST TEACHER!'
They walk! At the head
of the fashion parade.
They talk! Of elegance
and charm.
Stephanie Cartwright's
"Conversational Prints,"
An overnight hit —
but to their creator
they were the "happy
result of years of
experience." Miss
(lartwright feels the
same way about her
choice of a cigarette.
"Over the years l*ve
tried m.-iuy brands
— Camels are the
' choice of experi-
ence' with me," says
Miss larlwrittlil.
C^^cm 74ttio &w> az/tni/'
T for Taste... T for Throat
That's your proving ground
for any cigarette. Sec "if
Camels don't suit your
'T-Zon," to a "T."
■'
'/Conversational prints"? Yes, they tell their own story
\_j of fabulous places and people.
And the fact that more people are smoking Camels
than ever before tells its own story too.
It's the story of millions of smokers who have tried and
compared different brands . . . and found that Camels
suit their "T-Zones" to a "T."
"i es, "T-Zone" — for that's the all-important area of
Taste and Throat . . . your real proving ground
for any cigarette. Try Camels. Let your taste and your
throat tell you why Camels are the "choice of experience."
According to a Nationwide survey:
More doctors smoke
CAMELS THAN ANY OTHER
CIGARETTE
When 113,597 doctors
were asked by three in-
dependent research or-
ganizations to name the
cigarette they smoked,
more doct ors nam ed
Camel than any other
brand E
<W TjE££WSZOJV
AUGUST - 25t
\. K |
MRS. JAMES E. AURELL
the former Jolyne Holton of Port Arthur, Texas
bridal portrait painted by
Your skin grows lovelier
with your First Cake of Camay!
THE AUREUS-THEIR STORY
The Aurells came back to the
bride's home in Texas to be
wed. Jolyne's skin is smooth
and fresh. She says— "My
first cake of Camay brought
my skin a lovelier look!"
Lovely skin— lovely girl! And your skin can be softer, smoother
with your first cake of Camay— if you'll do this! Give up care-
less cleansing! Go on the Camay Mild-Soap Diet. Doctors
tested Camay's beauty promise on scores of women. And
nearly every one of those women gained a lovelier skin with
one cake of Camay. The wrapper tells you how to be lovelier!
THE SOAP
OF BEAUTIFUL
WOMEN
Sunny skies smiled on the Aurells' honeymoon in
Acapulco, Mexico. And the forecast for Jolyne's
complexion is "fair and clearer," too. She'll stay
on the Camay Mild-Soap Diet!
#
Don't let that bath-freshness fade-
stay sweet to be near!
A star-spangled evening begins in your bath,
it's true. You start off sweet and dainty. But
what will you do to keep underarm odor from
turning your dreams to dust?
After your bath washes away past perspiration,
remember— Mum's the word for safer, surer
protection against risk of future underarm odor.
0
Product of Bristol-Myers
Safer for charm — Mum checks perspiration odor,
protects your daintiness all day or all evening.
Safer for skin— Because Mum contains no harsh or
irritating ingredients. Snow-white Mum is gentle —
harmless to skin.
Safer for clothes— No damaging ingredients in Mum
to rot or discolor fine fabrics. Economical Mum doesn't
dry out in the jar. Quick, easy to use, even after you're
dressed.
TO COMBAT BAD BREATH, I RECOMMEND
COLSATE DENTAL CREAM! FOR SCIENTIFIC
, TESTS PROVE THAT IN 7 OUT OF 10 CASES,
\ COLGATE'S INSTANTLY STOPS BAD BREATH
E*}*>-? THAT ORIGINATES IN THE MOUTH.1 -.
\~^' ^ s^^y^-J
"Colgate Dental Cream's active penetrating
foam gets into hidden crevices between teeth
—helps clean out decaying food particles —
stop stagnant saliva odors — remove the cause
of much bad breath. And Colgate's soft pol-
ishing agent cleans enamel thoroughly,
gently and safely!"
AUGUST. 1948
VOL. 30, NO.
*w T££Evrsiay
KEYSTONE EDITION
LATER-Thanks to Colgate Dental Cream
Always vse
COLGATE DENTAL CREAM
after you eat and before
every dote
: .
Miracle in Cuba by Pearl D. Carrington 23
We Won Our Future by Mrs. Ward George 24
26
28
30
34
My Wife Jane by Goodman Ace as told to Gladys Hall
"The Family That Prays Together" by Robbin Coons
"I'll Make the San Fernando Valley My Home" by Elaine St. Johns
Joyce Jordan. M. D. — In Living Portraits
They All Want to Lead the Band by David O. Alber 40
Bride and Groom in a Double Partnership by John Nelson 42
Here's Peter Grant — In color 50
This is Your FBI— A Picture Story 52
Down on Donald's Farm — In Pictures 56
mmmmm
Radio Mirror Quiz by Todd Russell 3
Facing the Music by Duke Ellington 10
Look At The Records by Joe Martin 12
Collector's Corner by Elliot Lawrence 13
What's New From Coast to Coast by Dale Banks 14
Cathy MacGregor 19
Joan Tompkins 21
Grand Ole Opry — In Color 54
Inside Radio 64
It's Here 67
Tom Williams 81
Information Booth 100
Relaxing Is a Science by Terry Burton 6
Summer Specialties by Mary Jane Fulton 8
Between the Bookends by Ted Malone 38
Tall and Handsome by Kate Smith 58
Life Can Be Beautiful 68
WHN: "Hi-Ya. Sport Fans!" 4
KDKA: Al Marsico, Tune Collector 16
WFIL: Skipper Dawes i«
WEBR: Ralph Hubbell '.'.'?.'.'.'.'.'.'.'. '. '.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'. '..' 20
iqdbseci
Coast to Coast in Television 45
Women of Fashion '..'.'.'... 47
Happy Time '. .......... '. .'. '. ...... \ ...'.". '" 48
RADIO MIRROR R
"I Give My Troth"— a When a Girl Marries Novelette
by Helen Christy Harris 60
ON THE COVER: The Davis family, of When a Girl Marries; color portraits
by Geoffrey Morris.
Editorial Director
FRED R. SAMMIS
Managing Editor,
EVELYN I,. FIORE
Editor
DORIS IlIcFERRAN
Associate Editor
MARJORIE WALLACE
Art Director
JACK ZASORIN
Associate Art Director
FRANCES MALT
Television
JOAN MURPHY LLOYD
Research
TERC GOTO
Hollywood Office: Editor, ANN DAGGETT Managing Editor McCULLAH ST. JOHNS
Mnfj Photographers. HYMIE FINK, STERLING SMITH : Assistant BETTY JO RICE
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR, published monthly by MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS. INC., New York, N. Y.
General Business, Editorial and Advertising Offices, 20fi East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Hollywood— Beverly Hills
Offlce: 321 S. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills. California. O. J. Elder. President; Harold Wise, Executive Vice President;
Herbert Drake, Vlee President; Joseph Schultz, Vice President; S. O. Shapiro, Vice President; Ernest V. Heyn, Vice
President; Meyei Dworkin. Secretary and Treasurer; Pdward P. I.elhen, Advertising Director, Chicago Office: 221
North I. a Salle St., Leslie It. Cage. Mgr. S.mi Praia -is, o Ollirc; 1 (, I :{ Russ Building. Joseph M. Dooher, Mgr. Los
Angeles Office: Sidle 90S, (MSI South Olive St., George Wealherbv. Mgr. Reentered as Second Class matter March 1
li)4P, at the Post Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 3, 1871). Subscript Ion rates: U. S. and Pos
sessions, Canada and Newfoundland, $2.50 per year. All other countries $5.00 per year. Price per copy: 25c In
the United Slates and Canada. While Manuscripts, photographs and Drawings are submitted at the owner's risk.
every effort will be made to return those found unavailable If accompanied bv sufficient llrst class postage and
explicit name and address. Contributors are especially advised to be sure to retain copies of their contributions;
otherwise they are taking unnecessary risk. The contents of this magazine may not be reprinted either wholly oi
In pari without permission.
(Member of Macfadden Women's Group)
Copyright, 1948, by Macfadden Publications, Inc. All rights reserved under International Copyright Convention. All
rights reserved under Pan-American Copyright Convention. Todos derechos reservados segun La Coovenclon Pan-
ftmerlrnnn rte Prnnlednd l.itcrarla y Artlstlca. Title trademark registered In V. S. Patent Office.
Printed In U. S. A l»v *rt Color rvlnllnc Co.. Duncllen. N. J.
RADIO MIRROR QUIZ
i ■*szrr g
This month's guest
quizmaster is
Todd Russell, m.c.
of CBS's
Strike It Rich
(Sundays 9:30 P.M.
EDT)
1 Oldest member of
"Allen's Alley." Who
is she?
2. Red Skelton was once a (a) truck driver,
(b) dentist, (c) circus clown.
3. Started out as a danc-
er, but broke her leg.
Now well-known singer.
Who is she?
4. Jimmy Durante started in show business
as part of a three man act. Name the other
two men.
5. What famous news
commentator once
lived with Lawrence
of Arabia?
6. What orchestra leader does not play any
instrument, and does not sing?
MY FAVORITE QUIZ QUESTIONS
(a) How fast can a snail travel?
(b) Are there more dogs than radios in the
United States?
ANSWERS:
OipDJ Aj9AG <H SbopSSJL|| 3JD 3J3ljj_ (q)
•JDSA D 3|J(JU 3UQ to)
•jasA)| Ad)( -9
•sduioi)J^ ||9mo-| -g
'uospop »!pp3 puD uojAdjq no-] -^
•Adq suoq •£
•uMop snajjQ (a) -j
•X9||v
s.uaIIV }° „uinD<j$snN 'sj^m "snoij DAjauipj *|
union station and skyline - Twelve large railroad
Southwest6 m and °Ut °f tHiS "Gateway t0 the G™<*
■Ww?*-tfm>
Wmim
\
f: !
Breezy, bustling, big-town
-that's KANSAS CITY
K. C. is a hospitable home-town — a mighty pleasant
place to live. Unusually beautiful residential areas, parks,
broad boulevards abound. Educational and cultural op-
portunities have been well planned. Civic pride runs high.
Almost smack in the middle of the U. S.— K. C. is the
flourishing center of a 6- state trading area, extending
as far west as Colorado and clear down into Texas. Cows,
horses, hogs, mules, grain, oil, lumber flow in and out.
With the old "Show-me" spirit still alive, Kansas
Citians have long enjoyed the Candy Coated Gum —
Beech-Nut Beechies
Peppermint, Spearmint
and Pepsin-
They're
good!
Beech-Nut Gum
in stick form —
the outstand-
ing favorite
everywhere.
I II
FAMOUS K. C. STOCKYARDS-
350'acre,brick'paved"cou)'hotel."
NELSON GALLERY OF ART -
one of the most imposing and
beautiful in America.
sm
\i#"
,L
MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM-
a city block square, it houses
a huge Arena, Music Hall,
Theatre, and Exhibition Hall.
Bert Lee, sportscaster, is also WHN's
Sales Director, Bertram Lebhar, Jr.
Ward Wilson, Bert Lee and Marty Glickman,
heard on WHN's Warm Up Time and Sports. Extra.
Inside story on Today's Baseball. Here Buddy
Greenspan spins crowd noise records and Bert
produces the sound of a hit as Marty broadcasts.
TO metropolitan listeners, Bert Lee is the man who
brings them the fastest game of baseball in radio, a
15-minute, play-by-play account of one of the two
most exciting games of the day broadcast on WHN's
Today's Baseball. Marty Glickman, WHN sports director
does the other game. Both are heard daily from 7:00 to
7:30 P.M., EDT.
Lee creates the game from notes taken from the
news ticker tape, adds the crowd noises with phono-
graph records and a realistic crack of the bat meeting
a fast ball with the aid of a toy night club hammer and
a wooden block. The result is an early evening baseball
game for millions of workers who formerly got their
only baseball thrills from the box scores.
Along with Today's Baseball, Bert Lee broadcasts
numerous other sports programs for WHN, which puts
him in a class with the nation's top sportscasters. With
Ward Wilson, one of the country's outstanding radio
performers and sports experts, and the aforementioned
Glickman, Bert also does Warm-Up Time, inside dope
from the dugouts, preceding each Dodger game, and
Sports Extra, immediately following the Dodger broad-
casts, featuring scores and highlights from around the
leagues.
Not satisfied with being a leading radio personality,
Lee as Bertram Lebhar, Jr., is also sales director for
WHN, whose lead in the radio sports world is due in
a large measure to the combination of Lee-Lebhar.
Sportscaster-Sales Director Lebhar would seem to
have little time to play the role of family man. His New
Rochelle, N. Y„, household includes Evelyn Lebhar,
Bert's wife, and five robust, handsome children, Bert
III, 18 years old and an upper freshman at Cornell
University; Godfrey M. II, 14 years old and a sophomore
at New Rochelle High School; 11 -year-old Barbara, who
is attending Roosevelt Public School; Suzanne, age 9,
also at Roosevelt Public School, and the youngest,
Vivienne, 8 years old.
The gathering of the Lebhar clan at the dinner table
means that the crowded sports activities of the day will
be discussed in knowledgeable fashion by all members
of the household, from tot to teen, with dad and mom
presiding. The Lebhar children fail to understand why
other youngsters in the neighborhood are not con-
versant with current football strategy, hot stove league
palaver and wrestling techniques.
The National Father's Day Committee, aware of Bert's
accomplishments in both private and business life,
awarded him a citation two years ago for his outstanding
contribution to radio and his meritorious record as a
father. The citation, presented to him on Father's Day,
1946, read: "To Bert Lee, for his supremacy as sports
commentator, bridge expert and exemplary father and
family man."
Bert received his college training at Cornell University
and New York Law School. He changed his mind about
being a lawyer and entered the radio field where he
became a salesman with a record just short of fabulous.
rfbtf ?& f&t tfe #a?g?0i(?tf 'y<m> faafat,
Here is Ruth, rarin' to get up to the Cape for
that gorgeous two weeks she's dreamed about
all year. The wonderful boys she'll meet . . .
the gay times she'll have . . . the sea, the sun,
and the moonlight.
But it isn't going to be that way !
Of course she'll meet attractive men . . . but
they'll have little time for her. Of course she'll
sun herself and decorate the beach . . . but
most of the time it will be alone. And she won't
know why!*
Like many another girl, Ruth, without realiz-
ing it, is guilty of bad breath * (halitosis) now
and then. And when that happens . . . it's often
bye-bye friendships . . . bye-bye romance!
When you're out to make the most of your-
self isn't it just common sense to be extra care-
ful about offending others? It's so easy when
you have a bottle of Listerine Antiseptic in
your vacation kit. Simply rinse the mouth with
Listerine Antiseptic, night and morning, and
before any date. Almost at once it leaves the
breath fresher, sweeter, less likely to offend.
No wonder a lot of smart people make it part
of their "passport to popularity."
Incidentally, Listerine Antiseptic is a pretty
wonderful first aid, too, when it comes to
cases of minor skin infection, and insect bites
and stings.
If you're vacation-bound don't forget to tuck
a bottle of Listerine Antiseptic in your bag.
A friend in need is a friend indeed.
While some cases of halitosis are of systemic
origin, most cases, say some authorities, are due
to the bacterial fermentation of tiny food parti-
cles clinging to mouth sur-
faces. Listerine Antiseptic
quickly halts such fermen-
tation, then overcomes the
odors fermentation causes.
Lambert Pharmacal Co.
St. Louis, Mo.
P. S. IT'S NEW! Have you tried
Listerine TOOTH PASTE, the MINTY
3-way prescription for your teeth?
IS A
SCIENCE
I'LL wager that a lot of you, like me, are so plain tuckered out at
the end of a day's work that you sometimes can't enjoy having fun.
(More times than you care to admit, I'll wager.) Well, as you know,
each week on the Family Counselor portion of The Second Mrs.
Burton, we have a visit from a recognized authority in one of the
many fields that are of interest to women. When Miss Claire Mann,
the noted authority on health and beauty, came to see me, she passed
on so many sensible tips that I knew you'd want to hear about them,
too. In her New York studio, Claire Mann has taught thousands of
men and women the science of relaxing — and if you don't think
relaxing is a science, just listen to Miss Mann!
"Women of all ages and from all walks of life come to me with
their problems, physical and emotional. They're tense or run-down
from 'occupational fatigue,' " said Miss Mann. I interrupted to find
out exactly what she meant by that term, and she explained it this
way: "It's just simply this — women, housewives in particular, don't
know how to relax during the day's work. That's where the trouble
starts. You take a man, for instance — if he's behind a desk, he's able
to find time for a cigarette between crises. A truck driver can hop out
of his truck for a cup of coffee."
"Do you mean that a woman can find the same sort of relaxation in
her home?" I asked.
"Yes, she can, but unfortunately most women don't know how to,"
admitted our Family Counselor. "As long as she is in her home, the
average woman always sees things about her that need mending, or
dusting, or fixing. Result is — occupational fatigue. Sometimes it takes
the form of a real pain, or perhaps — and this is more common — a good
case of nerves. Then over-tension follows. Occupational fatigue can
creep up slowly and wear you down. In its early stages it may make
you feel frustrated, tired — or just simply bored. Radio programs, such
as yours, Mrs. Burton, help to alleviate some of the causes of her
trouble because they help her to forget her own problems. And I find
that musical therapy is a fine treatment for her condition because it
brings relaxation. When you start the tedious part of your work,
make it a point to turn on your favorite sort of music, Bach or
boogie-woogie, whatever it may be — and let it carry you through
your work.
"That's why we, in our studio, are so successful," she continued.
"The simple, obvious way is the best way to cure nervous pain from
lack of relaxation. If you do want some homework though, I might tell
you about the following four points that have proved helpful for so
many housewives. First: Empty your mind. Second: Breathe deeply
with long, smooth exhalations. Third: Relax the muscles so that they
become heavy. Fourth: Follow the music and learn to absorb it. What
could be more simple?" By the time the interview was over, I felt
completely relaxed!
If you have a problem that you would like to hear discussed, won't
you send it along to me, in care of Radio Mirror?
By TERRY BURTON
HeuJtb and beauty advice
from authority Claire Mann
(r.) to Second Mrs. Burton
and her radio audience.
Every Wednesday, The Second Mrs. Burton (played by Patsy Campbell) is visited by an authority on some phase of women's-world interest.
Through this department, Terry Burton shares some of these visits with Radio Mirror readers. The Second Mrs. Burton may be heard
each Monday through Friday at 2 P.M., EDT, on CBS stations.
Are you in the know?
Would a smart "red head" wear—
□ Pink
□ Orange
□ Cerise
So you're tired of "traditional" colors. You
crave a change to— (s-sh!) pink— but you've
heard it's taboo for red heads. Well, wear
that dreamy pink confection. With beauty
experts' blessing! Any pale pink with a sub-
tle gold tone; like a very delicate flesh or
coral. It's smart to be sure your choice is
right. And for problem days, you're smart
to choose exactly the right napkin. Try all
3 sizes of Kotex! Find the one for you.
What's your winning weapon?
□ Sharp chaffer
□ Samba know-how
□ That starry-eyed look
Chin music and fancy footwork may be fine.
But to set him mooning, try that starry-
eyed look. It's accomplished with a colorless
brow - and - lash cream that helps condition
'em. Makes lashes seem longer. (Glamour for
your lids, as well, if Mom vetoes eye shadow.)
To win self-confidence on "those" days, turn
to Kotex — for the extra protection of an
exclusive safety center. Your secret weapon
against secret woes!
When it's a foursome, what's your policy ?
□ Fair play □ All's fair in love □ Leave the field to Sue
Ever see green on a double date? Even if
he's snareable . . . even if the pressure's
terrific . . . don't be a male robber. Play
fair. Avoid hurting others. Besides, a halo
can be mighty becoming. And when trying
days needle you, seek the comforting angel-
softness of new Kotex. The kind of softness
that holds its shape— because Kotex is made
to stay soft while you wear it. Strictly gen-
ius! Did you know? Or have you already
discovered this new, softer napkin? (Poise,
also, comes in the package labelled Kotex!)
Afore ivo/ne/? choose /COTEX
than a// other san/tary na/?6/ns
If delayed beyond your deadline —
□ Bunk at Katie's house
O Call the family
□ Head home without 'phoning
H'm . . . later than you thought ! Do you
cringe before a 'phone booth? Dread waking
Dad? Better call the family. (They're prob-
ably waiting up for you, anyway.) Telling
where you are and when you'll be home
will spare them worry; soften their wrath. And
think of the worry you can save yourself,
at certain times, with Kotex. For who could
guess . . . with those flat pressed ends to
guard you from tell-tale outlines?
Which
deodorant would
you decide on?
D A cream
D A powder
D A liquid
Granted you're in the know about
naplans . . . what about ^^
ants for napkin use? Fact is
whde creams and liquids will do'
for everyday daintiness -yet, for
those days a powder deodor-
ant s best -sprinkled freely on
sanitary napkins. That's because
a powder has no moisture-resist-
ant base; doesn't slow up absorp-
Powder is made especially for
napkin use. '
Being unscented, Quest De-
odorant Powder doesn't just mask
odors. Quest destroys them. Safely
Positively. To avoid offending, bu'v
a can of Quest Powder today'
Quest
Deodorant
Powder
AsIc for it by nam.
T. M. REG. U. S. PAT. OFF.
Stronger Grip
Won't Slip Out
ASK FOR
t-Jt'otg™
) Every time
SPECIALTIES
Iru j\l\OMi CianirjlSXdyi
THE three pretty girls lending beauty
to this page are Patsy Lee, charming
and petite nineteen-year-old song-
stress on Don McNeill's Breakfast Club,
and Charlotte Manson and Mercedes
McCambridge, who are both featured
on This Is Nora Drake. Charlotte and
Mercedes also play on Theater of Today.
If you're a real radio fan, you have
heard Mercedes' voice on Grand Cen-
tral Station and Studio One, too.
Radio work is fascinating fun, all
three enthusiastically agree. But it can
be, and is, hard work — especially in the
heat of the summer. For, even as you
and I, who also have to keep on working
(except on our vacations, of course),
they can't help wishing that they could
spend more time just trying to keep
cool. The best way they've found to
keep their minds off the heat is to con-
centrate on bringing you good enter-
tainment. In so doing, for the time
being they can forget about how warm
they feel, which proves a point— that if
you don't dwell on something unpleas-
ant, it won't bother you.
Despite the heat, however, Patsy,
Charlotte, and Mercedes feel that it's
important to look their prettiest — not
alone for their pride's sake, but also
because it matters very much to them
what others think of their appearance.
Every woman understands this. But not
every woman knows how to keep cool
and dainty-looking in warm weather.
So, we asked them for their special
beauty hints.
Patsy takes two lukewarm scented
tub baths daily — morning and late
afternoon, and dons clean underwear
each time. After every wearing, she
rinses out her underthings immediately.
She alternates between using cologne,
toilet water, deodorant cologne, or
deodorant perfume, which has been
chilled in the refrigerator. Their light
floral fragrances match or blend with
the scent of the fresh flowers she fre-
quently wears in her hair, or pinned
at her waist on a dainty cotton frock.
In humid weather she shampoos her
hair more often, so that it always looks
as bright and clean as she is, and
brushes it a lot. The home permanent
wave Patsy has learned to give herself
; '. ■:>■.:,? ... '■■.'
......
Patsy Lee: "Flowers
can make a summer."
Mercedes McCam-
bridge: "Feet first!"
Charlotte Manson:
"Daintiness counts ! "
keeps her hair nicely in curl — in soft,
natural-looking waves.
Charlotte takes no chances on offend-
ing; she uses an underarm deodorant
and perspiration check. A face mask
makes her skin feel and look refreshed.
Bath powder, dusted on her body after
bathing, lets her girdle slide on easily,
and the heat emphasizes the powder's
fragrance.
Like Patsy and Charlotte, Mercedes
feels that daintiness is never so im-
portant as it is in warm weather. She,
too, follows the same beauty rituals.
But, in addition, she pays special atten-
tion to her feet. She gives them fre-
quent foot baths to relieve soreness
and swelling, dusts them with an anti-
septic and deodorizing foot powder, and
also sprinkles some of it in her shoes.
RADIO MIRROR for Better Living
In the most dramatic beauty test ever made :
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trs L//CE START/A/O L/FE ALL OVEZ MA/A/ M7W AA/ /A/CZED/BLY LO/EUEZ COMPLEX/OH /
By
DUKE ELLINGTON
■
lu
THIS month, we've decided to stick to good
news — a column full of items that make me
■ happy. First off, I'm happy to be back at work
after an operation at Manhattan Hospital.
Thanks, too, to Tex Benecke and the others
who subbed for me on my disc-jockey show over
WMCA, WSBC, WWDC, KVOC and all the others.
* * *
I liked the news that Joe Mooney fans have been so
persistent that Decca has consented to release all eight
Mooney discs in one album. The sides are as follows:
"Lazy Countryside," "Stars In You Eyes," "Warm Kiss
And A Cold Heart," "Tea For Two," "Just A Gigolo,"
"September Song," "Meet Me At No Special Place," and
"I Can't Get Up The Nerve To Kiss You."
* * *
Perry Como is still in Hollywood, where he is working
on the musical "Words And Music." It's a film based on
the lives of Rodgers and Hart. The lovely Lena Home,
you know, also has a featured role in it.
* * *
Here's an item of special interest to jazz fans. Count
Basie and Illinois Jacquet exchanged drummers re-
cently, Shadow Wilson joining the Basie Band, while
the veteran Jo Jones switched to the Jacquet crew.
* * *
It was wonderful hearing that delightful Dinah Shore,
who hails from Nashville, received the title of "The
Most Popular Woman In The South" which is awarded
annually by the Southeastern Women's Exposition.
* * *
Among the record favorites on my disc jockey show
you'll be interested in knowing that I've been getting
lots of requests lately for platters by Nancy's Daddy.
Frankie's versions of "I Went Down To Virginia" and
"I've Got A Crush On You" are just fine. Ethel Smith's
"Blame It On The Samba" is another popular platter.
* ♦ *
Listening to the new Raymond Scott Quintet is a
treat for sore ears. Ray, you know, is Mark Warnow's
From composer eden ahbez
himself, Frank Sinatra got coach-
ing in his version of the
record-breaking "Nature Boy."
Eunice Podis, young American pianist, told Margaret Arlen (left)
and Harry Marble about plans for her coming New York concert, in
an interview on Miss Arlen's CBS program. (Mon.-Sat. 8:30 A. M.)
Sam Spade's secretary at home: Lurene
Tuttle (above, r.) is both mother
and friend of teen-age Barbara.
brother and a truly original composer and arranger. His
new small group is playing the same type of unusual com-
position that made him so popular a few years back.
Vaughn Monroe now is the possessor of a Lockheed
Lodestar thirteen passenger plane. Vaughn will have
both a pilot and co-pilot for use on one-nighters. The
man flies his own personal plane, too!
* * *
New York's famed 52nd Street has really been jumping
of late. In recent weeks the various night spots have been
presenting to the public such fine talent as Errol Garner,
Art Tatum, Harry The Hipster, J. C. Heard, Charlie
Parker, George Shearing, Oscar Pettiford, Ella Fitzgerald
ffld Lucky Thompson.
* * *
Practicing the forbidden cornet in the chicken coop in-
stead of playing his violin in the front parlor started
Salvador Camarata on his career as composer, conductor
and arranger. Parental objections were overcome, how-
ever, when a retired circus musician neighbor convinced
the Camarata clan that Salvador, or "Tutti" as he was
called, was a born cornetist.
Tutti Camarata's jazz career started when he switched
from cornet and made his name as the youthful first
trumpet player in such bands as Frank Dailey's, Joe
Mooney's, Charlie Barnet's and Jimmy Dorsey's. It was
with the Dorsey aggregation that Tutti showed his capa-
bilities as an arranger. He left the horn-tooting to others
and devoted his efforts to scoring such hit discs for the
band as "Green Eyes," "Amapola," "The Breeze and I,"
and "My Prayer." When the band was selected to play
for Bing Crosby on the Music Hall, Tutti was given the
job of writing two special (Continued on page 82)
R
M
11
* * * * *
Don't be
Half-safe!
VALDA
by
SHERMAN
At the first blush of womanhood many mys-
terious changes take place in your body. For
instance, the apocrine glands under your
arms begin to secrete daily a type of perspi-
ration you have never known before. This is
closely related to physical development and
causes an unpleasant odor on both your per-
son and your clothes.
There is nothing "wrong" with you. It's just
another sign you are now a woman, not a
girl ... so now you must keep yourself safe
with a truly effective underarm deodorant.
Two dangers— Underarm odor is a real handi-
cap at this romantic age, and the new cream
deodorant Arrid is made especially to over-
come this very difficulty. It kills this odor
on contact in 2 seconds, then by antiseptic
action prevents the formation of all odor for
48 hours and keeps you shower-bath fresh.
It also stops perspiration and so protects
against a second danger— perspiration stains.
Since physical exertion, embarrassment and
emotion can now cause your apocrine glands
to fairly gush perspiration, a dance, a date,
an embarrassing remark may easily make
you perspire and offend, or ruin a dress.
All deodorants are not alike — so remember
— no other deodorant tested stops perspira-
tion and odor so completely yet so safely as
new Arrid. Its safety has been proved by
doctors. That's why girls your age buy more
Arrid than any other age group. In fact, more
men and women everywhere use Arrid than
any other deodorant. It's antiseptic, used by
117,000 nurses.
Intimate protection is needed — so protect
yourself with this snowy, stainless cream that
smooths on and disappears. This new Arrid,
with the amazing new ingredient Creamogen,
will not crystallize or dry out in the jar. The
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Arrid its Approval Seal— harmless to fabrics.
Arrid is safe for the skin— non-irritating— can
be used right after shaving.
Don't be half-safe. During this "age of ro-
mance" don't let perspiration problems spoil
your fun. Don't be half-safe — be Arrid-safe!
Use Arrid to be sure. Get Arrid now at your
favorite drug counter — only 39'.' plus tax.
(Advertisement)
•k * * * *r
12
dLooh at the
RECORDS
By Joe Martin
Here's Cugat by Cugat, who is a capable
caricaturist when he's not conducting. For
Nougats by Cugat, see review below.
DANCING OR LISTENING
COUNT BASIE (RCA Victor) — Any time the Count makes a record you can
be sure that the "beat is there." No exception, this. Jimmy Rushing sings
"Money Is Honey" and the band rocks on "Guest In A Nest."
TEX WILLIAMS (Capitol)— Believe it or not, this is a Western band with
a real beat, too. A Kentonish introduction on "Flo From St. Joe, Mo." and a
clever novelty lyric on "Suspicion" make this a recommended disc.
THELONIOUS MONK (Blue Note)— Basic requirements tor a be-bop col-
lection are four sides by the "genius of bop." In the order of our own prefer-
ence, it's "Suburban Eyes," "Well You Needn't." "Round About Midnight"
and "Thelonious."
XAVIER CUGAT (Columbia) — Not authentic Latin-American music, but
both listenable and danceable are "Cugat's Nougats" and "The Mexican
Shuffle."
RAY McKINLEY (RCA VICTOR)— "A Man Could Be A Wonderful Thing"
is a wonderful thing the way Ray does it. Marcy Lutes, the new gal vocalist,
is fine. Backing is Ray again singing "Tambourine."
ART LUND (MGM)— Irving Berlin's "It Only Hanpens When I Dance With
You" is well sung by Art and well played by Johnny Thompson's band.
"May I Still Hold You," the reverse, isn't nearly as pretty a melody.
BOB CROSBY— JERRY GRAY (Bullet)— Good as Bob is, he is made to
sound better by the Jerry Gray orchestral background and some tasteful
choral background by the Crew Chiefs. It's the old "You're My Everything"
and the new "It's Got To Be."
SCAT MAN CROTHERS (Capitol)— As the Scat Man himself might say,
this is neat, reet but not so sweet. It's as wHrd a pairing as we've ever hoped
to hear. Lots of fun listening to "The Thing" and "Dead Man's Blues."
ALBUM ARTISTRY
STORMY MONDAY BLUES (RCA Victor)— A set of eight sides of Earl
Hines and his orchestra with vocals by Billy Eckstine makes a fine package.
Recorded from 1940 to 1942, this group of selections is of interest to Hines,
Eckstine, blues, piano or jazz collectors.
JO STAFFORD (Capitol) — Jo sings American folk songs with full orchestral
accompaniment instead of the usual guitar background. "Barbara Allen,"
"Black Is The Colour" and "He's Gone Away" are outstanding. Paul Weston's
backings are excellent.
FRANZ LEHAR WALTZES (London)— A very unusual package from the
Continent, this. It features the composer himself conducting the Zurich Ton-
halle Orchestra in waltzes from "Eva" and the "Count of Luxembourg" and
the "Gold And Silver Waltz."
STAN KENTON (Capitol)— Whether or not you like the Kenton school of
progressive jazz, this is of particular interest for its attempts at emotional
portrayal in the modern musical form. "Lonely Woman" is haunting,
"Monotony" is unusual.
FACING the MUSIC
Collector & L<
or 5 Corner
By ELLIOT LAWRENCE
(This month's guest collector is Elliot
Lawrence, youngest of the nation's big
name band leaders. Before batoning a
dance band, Elliot studied at the Uni-
versity of Pennsylvania and was later
musical director of WCAU in Philadel-
phia. In addition to touring and record-
ing for Columbia, Elliot is currently
finishing the score of a musical comedy.
Some of his serious compositions have
been performed by symphony groups.)
Regardless of age or personal prefer-
ence, no record collection is really com-
plete without some of the wonderful
music that has come from Broadway
shows of yesterday and today. There
are show tunes to conjure up or meet
the needs of most any mood, be it ro-
mantic, gay or dramatic. Many are
excellent for dancing — all are tops for
listening.
Just as with any other category of
discs, the best way to start a collection
of show tunes is to gather up about a
dozen singles or albums that are repre-
sentative of the best. It is well to keep
in mind that the composer is just as
important as the artist. Here goes, then,
for a basic list:
From Cole Porter's "Jubilee," the
Artie Shaw version of "Begin The Be-
guine" (RCA Victor).
Frank Sinatra's singing "All The
Things You Are," from "Very Warm
For May," by Jerome Kern (Columbia) .
The complete album of "Oklahoma,"
sung by the original cast of the Rodgers
and Hammerstein show (Decca) .
"Falling In Love With Love," from
Rodgers and Hart's "Boys From Syra-
cuse" recorded by Andre Kostelanetz
(Columbia) .
From "Bandwagon," the Arthur
Schwartz musical, "Dancing In The
Dark" by the Fred Waring choir and
band (RCA Victor) .
Ethel Merman, Ray Middleton and
the rest of the cast of Irving Berlin's
"Annie Get Your Gun" between the
covers of one album (Decca).
The immortal Bunny Berrigan's ver-
sion of "Can't Get Started," a Vernon
Duke tune from "Ziegfeld Follies"
(RCA Victor).
The complete "Finian's Rainbow"
album, with the witty score by Har-
bury, Burton and Lane (Columbia).
Perry Como's vocal version of "More
Than You Know" from Vincent You-
man's "Great Day" (RCA Victor).
Dinah Shore's interpretation of "I
Can't Give You Anything But Love"
from "Blackbirds of 1928," by Dorothy
Fields and Jimmy McHugh (RCA Vic-
tor).
Last, but among the very best, the
complete album of "Porgy and Bess" by
the great George Gershwin (Decca).
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13
When the circus was in New York, Mr. and Mrs. Ed. Herlihy had
their work cut out for them by Donald, four and Jeanne, seven.
Even before they got to the eat.- Dad Herlihy crossed many a
pahu i\ilh silver. He's host on NBC's Honevmoon in New York.
NBC photographer Ike Selby caught Donald
urging clown Lou Jacobs to come home with him.
R
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14
THE more we see and hear, the more con-
vinced we become that the folks who are
trying so hard to cling to the status quo
are hanging on to something that "ain't." The
conscientious parent under the status quo
did all in his power to be able to send his
son, or daughter, to college. But look here,
now. If current NBC plans go through, that
won't be necessary. Fellows and gals will
be able to study via the network. NBC has
set up an ambitious "University of the Air"
plan and is now in the process of asking
several universities to join in. Listeners
would enroll in the universities for a home
study course (for a nominal fee), and, at
the end of a specified period, would take an
exam. On passing, the student would receive
a joint certificate from the school and the
University of the Air.
Some things just don't make very good
sense to us. All around there's talk about
retrenchments, with plenty of sponsors hold-
ing out on re-signing talent until it takes a
substantial cut. On the other hand comes an
announcement from CBS that it netted better
than a million and a half in the first quarter
of 1948, which tops last year's high for that
network. You figure it out.
Former stage and screen star Muriel
Angelus has turned down a meaty Holly-
wood offer, for two good reasons . . . her
daughter and her husband. In private life,
Muriel is Mrs. Paul Lavalle, wife of radio's
baton wielder. While she could conceivably
take the nine-months-old baby to the Coast,
Paul couldn't leave New York because of his
radio commitments. Rather than leave him
COAST t© COAST
nm
■HHHHR'' v. :-' ' '. ; : .. .
Orthodox Jonathan ate his cotton candy from the top down.
It paved the way for the popcorn and ice cream that followed.
When Clyde Beatty's circus hit L. A., Martha
Tilton's Jonathan, five, met Clyde himself.
By the time they saw the sword swallower, Jon said he knew
just how she felt. Except that her sword didn't taste so good.
alone, wife Muriel turned down the offer.
* * *
Pops Whiteman will never stop. Now he's
been elected by the board of directors of
ABC to be a vice-president. It couldn't have
happened to a nicer guy, we say.
Odd data . . . Bob Novak, who directs
Mutual's weekday Newsreel series, is a
magician for relaxation. He's a former
president of the New York chapter of the
International Brotherhood of Magicians and,
for two years, trouped around the world for
the Army, entertaining hospitalized GIs with
his feats of magic.
* * *
By this time in radio history, whenever
you hear a couple of radio comics feuding
on their programs you're fairly sure that
they're bosom buddies and pay their script
writers a tidy piece of change to keep the
air war going. Now, there's the makings of
a real feud in the biz. Fred Allen is still
burning because Bing Crosby canceled out
a guest shot on the comic's show. The thing
that really makes Allen sore is that all this
took place after Fred had already cut the
recording of his appearance on the Groaner's
stanza.
* * *
One of the shortest vacationers is the
Beulah Show, which returns to the air
about the middle of August. We have to
hand it to the writers who took over the
scripting assignment on this series after the
death of Marlin Hurt, its originator and
creator. They've done a consistently good
job of retaining all (Continued on page 17)
V
15
The vocalists on KDKA's Memory Time. In the foreground: Elaine Beverley, Buzz Aston, Ev iNeill (at the piano), Florence
Berg and announcer Bill Sutherland. In the back row, the quartet, Dick Fisher, Bob Hughes, Bernie Markwell and Ray Griffin.
As Musical Director of Memory Time,
Al's on an endless search for those
half-remembered songs which are so
often requested under wrong titles.
R
M
16
BUILDING any kind of a radio show is no easy job, but when it
comes to preparing a show like KDKA's Memory Time, half hour
musical which features the tunes of other years every Thursday
night on the Pittsburgh station, there's a real task involved.
Don't take anybody's word for it. Just ask Al Marsico, famed Pitts-
burgh musician who is the musical director of the production. He
says he doesn't even take time out to say hello when he meets his
friends. Invariably it's: "Say, tell me where I can get the words
and music of. . . ."
Currently he's looking for a copy of "She Sleeps in the Valley by
Request." If you can help him out, he'll certainly appreciate it.
Al started out as a violinist in Millvale High School and began his
career as a member of Ralph Harrison's orchestra. He bought his
own baton in 1928 when he went to Pittsburgh's Enright Theater as
musical director. One of his first duties was to teach a young singer,
Dick Powell, how to m.c. a show. Marsico made a lot of other famous
friends at the Enright, folks like the Ritz Brothers, Tom Mix, Burns
and Allen, Olive Borden and Joe Penner.
Al began a round of night club work in 1932 when he played the
old Plaza Restaurant. In 1937, he went to the Show Boat and in
1939 he became the musical director at Pittsburgh's famous Nixon
Restaurant. And he's still there.
He was selected to take over the musical chores on Memory Time
in 1943. He's been at it ever since, working in close harmony with
the producer, Ronnie Taylor, writer Les Stern and arranger, Chauncey
Lively. With its 18-piece orchestra and singing stars, Memory Time
has given Pittsburgh a show of network quality.
Between his work at the Nixon and at KDKA, Al figures he devotes
60 hours a week to music.
He worked overtime just recently during construction of his cottage
at Ligonier, western Pennsylvania mountain resort. Marsico and
seven other musicians bought a 35-acre tract there, complete with
well-stocked lake and swimming pool. Al's cottage is a 34x34 stone
and timber structure overlooking the lake.
COAST to COAST
(Continued from page 15)
all the show's comic potentials with-
out sacrificing the dignity and natural
wit and intelligence of the central
character as she was first conceived.
Marlin Hurt never intended Beulah to
be a stereotype comedy Negro and she
hasn't become one, although the job of
avoiding cliches in situations and gags
must be a heavy one, now that the
show is on five times a week.
Elvia Allman, who plays Mrs. Buff-
Orpington on the Blondie show, is very
pleased with the results of an idea she
had back in the Spring. There's a large
and, formerly, unsightly vacant lot next
to Elvia's home. Last Spring, when
Elvia and her husband were working to
re-landscape their garden, they wound
up with some plants and shoots and
seeds left over. They planted their
left-overs in the vacant lot and now
it's a pleasure to see the eyesore
changed into a beauty spot.
* * *
One thousand guests, including all
the stars who have contributed their
performances to the Screen Guild
Players radio show, recently attended
the dedication of the hospital built with
funds from the proceeds of the Screen
Guild Players series. The 40-bed hos-
pital, which cost $1,300,000, adjoins the
famous Motion Picture Country House,
a Motion Picture Relief Fund project
which takes care of anyone who has
worked in the film industry for 20 years
and who is no longer able to support
himself. Jean Hersholt, president of
the Fund, presided over the cere-
monies and the program featured
Dinah Shore, Robert Montgomery, Ron-
ald Reagan, Shirley Temple and The
King's Men.
* * ■ *
When Groucho Marx arrived in New
York awhile ago, everybody was even
happier than usual to see him . . .
because he was sporting a real mus-
tache, which makes him look really
like Groucho Marx, if you get what
we mean.
* * *
John Loveton, producer-director of
Mr. and Mrs. North, had his hands full
a couple of weeks ago. Linda Watkins,
a nice young lady who specializes in
gun molls on the program, is a cat
fancier and owns six felines. One of
them had to be taken to a vet, so Linda
brought it to the studio with her to
save having to pick it up after the
show. She put the cat in the control
room to keep it out of the way during
air time. But cats aren't crazy about
strange places and this one got excited
in the middle of the show and started
acting up with the controls and director
Loveton. John was a very tired and
irritated man when he came out of that
control booth after the show went off
the air. And Linda has promised to
keep her business and her hobby strictly
apart from here on.
* * *
Bet you'll never guess what pro-
fession is represented most often by
contestants who appear on Sammv
Kaye's So You Want To Lead a Band?
program. Believe it or not — under-
takers.
* * *
There are many reasons why there's
no business (Continued on page 95)
II
4 WJrtn\
Vum nij<
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(Now in new 25£ and 50i sizes, phis tax.)
17
WHEN Edmund Dawes, generally addressed as
"Skipper," graduated from Swarthmore Col-
lege in 1932, he formed an orchestra of former
college students, spotting himself where he could
do the most good — at the piano. The group soon
had a job with the Holland-America steamship
line.
Skip saw no future in entertaining tourists, so
he became, successively, a cheese salesman and
then an insurance investigator. Neither job held
much promise either, so Skip went back to school.
In 1938 Temple University gave him a master's
degree in music education. He became music
supervisor in Bangor, Pennsylvania, and then
supervisor of elementary school music in Haver-
ford Township.
In August, 1942, the father of one of his pupils
named Skip for a WFIL opening. Inside of one
month's time, Mr. Dawes had gotten himself a new
job, a new house, and a new baby.
One of his first assignments was to record a short
program to be replayed in Philadelphia schools to
stimulate a scrap metal drive. It was good enough
to move Dr. Philip A. Boyer of the Board of Edu-
cation to suggest that WFIL start a series of educa-
tional programs for classroom use.
The 'idea caught, and with Skip at the helm,
WFIL began broadcasting Quaker City Scrappers,
the first radio program designed for in-school lis-
tening produced by a Philadelphia station. With
Skip as educational director for the station, that
single program grew to five programs a week — the
most popular of all Philadelphia's school series.
In 1943, Skip began the Magic Lady programs,
which were designed chiefly to appeal to children.
In that same year, Skip formed an all-teen-age-
girls chorus, The Choraleens, and the 22-voice
group became ABC network stars, broadcasting a
series of weekly programs coast-to-coast. That
same chorus forms the backbone of another Dawes'
production, Teen Age Time, broadcast Saturdays
at 9:00 a.m. in Philadelphia. Skip directs The
Choraleens in two other weekly broadcasts and
handles a weekly television program in addition.
His wife, Betty, and his two sons, Edmund, 12,
and Robert, 6, think he's a pretty clever guy.
The Skipper pours for Candy, Eddie and Angie.
KIPPER
R
M
18
(jf(//"f
/•//
^~&r< '/<*<■
CATHY MacGREGOR was bom in
New York City and she was slated
for the theater from the day she was
born, for her whole family was in it.
And her uncle, Edgar MacGregor, was
one of the most successful musical
directors of his time.
Uncle Edgar always said, "Have a
happy, carefree childhood, dear, and
when you are ready come to me." So
Cathy went to school, appeared in every
play the schools put on.
In 1939, Cathy was graduated from
Curtis High School on Staten Island.
And she went to her Uncle Edgar. She
was ready. But Uncle Edgar said, "Well,
it isn't as easy as all that, dear." So
Cathy decided she'd better learn how
to make a living. She bought a book
and learned stenography and typing in
one month.
On her first secretarial job she met a
girl who was connected with the Little
Theater at the YWCA. After office
hours, the two girls worked in the Lit-
tle Theater and during the summer
caught a 5 o'clock train for Mountain
Lakes, New Jersey, every day, to work
in summer stock. They had a wonder-
ful time and, by the end of the sum-
mer, both of them had pernicious
anemia.
Through a friend, Cathy got an audi-
tion with Bob and Betty White on the
People's Playhouse show. The Whites
were very enthusiastic about her acting
and advised her to give up everything
else and stick to radio. And suddenly
she began to get jobs in radio, in very
unusual ways. For instance, unknown
though she was, she insisted on reading
for a part in Studio One's production of
"King's Row," and so impressed direc-
tor Fletcher Markle that he gave her
the part and pointedly introduced her
to the audience as one of the most bril-
liant actresses to come his way. Then
she got a running comedy part on the
Perry Mason series, because she ran
into Arthur Hanna, the director then,
on a furiously cold day on 52nd Street
and impressed herself on him by being
able to joke about the cold which
made him so miserable. The writers
on the Dick Tracy program also found
themselves writing the part of Joan
Ashland into the script more often than
they'd originally planned, after Cathy
started playing it.
Catherine MacGregor is on her way
up, now. She's found her way at
attracting attention, initially by her
sparkling good humor which infects
everyone, then by her really compelling
performances. Watch for her, because
she's moving very fast.
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BOURJOIS
19
RALPH HUBBELL
Charley Bailey of WEBR, Jim Wells, Vice President of the Buffalo
Bills' Football Team; Sig Smith of WKBW and Ralph Hubbell.
R
M
20
Ralph is the subject when the obliging Mike Mazurki, wrestler
and movie actor, demonstrates an airplane spin for WBEN-TV.
BACK in the early 30's when Ralph Hubbell was
breaking into Buffalo radio, he had a daily poetry
program, in addition to his nightly sportscast.
One day he received a glowing letter from the
rugged Jimmy Slattery, of Buffalo, then the light-
heavyweight champion of the world.
"Please," wrote Jimmy, "send me a copy of the
verse you read on the air today. It was swell."
This letter — from an athlete who wrote not about
sports but about poetry — illustrates the wide appeal
of the Hubbell voice and helps to explain why the
WBEN sports director makes more than 100 personal
appearances annually, in addition to his 12 weekly
sportscasts.
The youthful dean of Buffalo sportscasters has
broadcast every sport from badminton to wrestling
in his 17 years in radio. He has always loved his job
and is even more enthusiastic now that WBEN-TV
has added television.
"I had to learn when not to talk in television,"
the smiling sportscaster said, "because the fan has
the picture of the action in front of him. Of course,
in a wrestling match the sportscaster helps by ex-
plaining the various holds and adds facts on forma-
tions when telecasting football."
Ralph is an athlete himself — he broke 80 in golf
last year — and won several varsity letters at Brook-
lyn's Flatbush High. When he graduated from Flat-
bush in 1930, it marked the 14th school he had
attended in six different states.
After his mother died in 1919, the sportscaster was
raised by a maiden aunt, a teacher who taught in
schools from New York to Florida. She took Ralph
with her wherever she went and he acquired a re-
markable knowledge of the habits of peoples.
Ralph was once a director of boys' work at a settle-
ment school in the rough-and-ready Red Hook sec-
tion of Brooklyn. This practical experience served
him in good stead and he is an outspoken advocate
of the value of boys clubs' activities.
On his way up to his present post, Ralph has
worked in various capacities on all other Buffalo
stations, which is somewhat of a record in itself. He
came to WBEN from WGR on February 29, 1948.
When Ralph makes any kind of prediction in sports,
he is certain to have at least two faithful fans who
are about to double-check him on the reasons why.
They are his two sons — Peter, 11, and Philip, 8.
Hubbell broadcasts over WBEN every weekday
evening at 6:15, Monday through Friday nights at
11:25 and every Sunday evening at 6:45.
Vvrv/
(j/i/iAf/t)
Nora Drake, CBS
Mon.-Fri., 2:30 p.m. EDT
A POPULAR American notion is that
people who make good in show
business come from small-to-
middlin'-towns, migrate to New York
or Hollywood, storm the gates and
zoom to the top. This notion is prob-
ably what leads hundreds of hopefuls
each year to these two Meccas of suc-
cess. And these hundreds of outlanders
are what make it so difficult and so
rare that a born New Yorker, or Cali-
fornian, even makes a hit in the home
town. But Joan Tompkins, who plays
the leading role on This Is Nora
Drake (CBS, Monday through Friday
at 2:30 PM, EDT), came through with
flying colors.
Not exactly a New York City native,
Joan was born in Mount Vernon, N. Y.,
which is a hamlet about 20 minihtes
from Manhattan. She's been in the
theatre practically all her life, having
made her first professional appearance
in a local production at the age of five.
She spoke one line in that play — but in
Italian. She went to school like every
other American child, but she trained
herself for her future, by working in
summer stock year after year.
In 1933, she tackled Broadway and
without too much difficulty landed a
part in "Fly Away Home". That led to
roles in "Pride and Prejudice," "Golden
Journey," "Saint's Husband" and "My
Sister Eileen." It was during the run
of this last play that Joan met an actor
named Bruce MacFarlane — and, later,
married him. In those years, Joan went
on the road, too.
Joan is a radio veteran of over 10
years. At first, it looks as though she
broke into radio in a strictly routine
manner, applying for an audition, read-
ing for some directors and getting a
job on a series called Snow Village
Sketches. But the twist is that five
whole years passed after this break,
before someone at the studio dug her
file card out of the dusty files again.
Oddly enough, when she was summoned
after this five-year lapse, it wasn't for
a small bit. It was for the lead in
Your Family and Mine. And, since
then, there have been no lapses what-
soever. In fact, sometimes, Joan wishes
there were more than 24 hours a day,
because besides her lead in This Is
Nora Drake, Joan has prominent roles
in David Harum, Young Widder Brown,
the lead for two years on Lora Lawton
and Call the Police.
ON THE RADIO I heard a haunting song
about a new shampoo: "Dream Girl . . .
beautiful Lustre-Creme Girl." Since I was
no "dream" in Jim's eyes, it gave me
new hope for my dull-looking, unruly hair!
HAPPY ME I \ noted hairdresser gave me a
Lustre-Creme shampoo with magic results.
"Use it at home, too," he said. "It's not a
soap, not a liquid, bill a dainty, new cream
shampoo with lanolin. It glamorizes hair!"
Lonely bachelor-girl becomes
LUSTRE CREMEDream Girl
a
JIM TURNED ROMANTIC . . . the night we dined at his country
club. Someone switched on a radio and there was the Dream Girl
song. Jim, for the first time, noticed my hair — now so lovely, thanks
to my home-shampooing with Lustre-Creme. "Say," he whispered,
"that song fits you. How about being my Mrs. Dream Girl?"
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Ibr
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Cuban radio executive Goar Mestre
wanted a Cuban counterpart of our Radio
City. Pearl Carrington wanted to
fly. They'd never heard of each other
before — but when his dream came
true, hers did too, in a truly miraculous way
STAL VENEZOLANAJ
By PEARL D. CARRINGTON
YOU know those people who sometimes call you up and
ask you what radio program you're listening to? Well,
take a little advice from me. Whenever they call be very,
very polite to them. It may be just an ordinary radio poll
but it may be . . . well, I'm getting ahead of my story.
It all began when I was at home alone one night. I
have a daughter and a son, both of them married. Until
they went away I was one of the busiest women alive. I
kept house, did all the sewing, baked the bread — partly to
save money and partly because we all liked home-made
bread. I even made the slip covers and draperies and cur-
tains for the house and did all my own carpentry work.
Then I found myself fairly idle for the first time, with
the children gone. Of course, I still sewed for ray daughter
and daughter-in-law but that did not fill the days. I read a
lot and listened a lot to the radio, which I had not had time
for before.
This night, just after supper, the telephone rang and a man
asked me if I had my radio on and what I was hearing.
This has happened to me several times and usually those
are the only two questions asked. But that night the man
was more inquisitive. He wanted to know a lot of things
about me — how much I listened to the radio, what programs
I liked, what ones I didn't like.
He asked me if I liked the disc jockeys. At first I thought
he meant those lovely recorded musical programs but when
he explained I said, "Oh, you mean those men who play
popular records late at night and giggle in between."
He seemed to think this was funny and then he started to
get very personal. He asked me how old I was and what
family I had. He had a pleasant voice and seemed nice so
I told him what he wanted to know and thought no more
about it.
Then the miracle happened! A week later he called again
and asked me if I would like to fly to Cuba to participate in
the opening of Cuba's Radio City — all expenses paid. At
first I could not believe it. Well, would you? If it had
happened to you?
The funny thing is that one of my dreams has been to
take a long air trip, but I had never had the time or the
money. And Cuba was a place I had always wanted to see.
When I was a girl I had spent some time in Mexico and my
father had once been the Texas correspondent to a Cuban
newspaper. And now here was a strange man asking me if
I would like to fly to Cuba. Would I! Wouldn't I just!
I don't know how I sounded when he convinced me it
wasn't a joke. And that I wasn't dreaming. I wasn't sure
until the letter came which explained everything. I had
been selected as a typical American radio listener and was
invited to join a group of radio (Continued on page 97)
R
■
2:
Summing up the Georges: past — dark with
hardship ; future — bright with promise. And
the present? Sheer, delirious happiness!
M
24
By
Mrs.
WARD
GEORGE
WINNER OF
PEOPLE ARE
FUNNY
"BRIGHT
FUTURE"
CONTEST
IVople Arc
I'unny 'm heard
Friday! 9 I' M
Mil on M»<:
I'LL never forget that look on Art Linkletter's
face when I gave ray answer to the "Big Chief
Windbag" riddle. He seemed so shocked that
I was sure I had failed!
It was the People Are Funny NBC program. The
contest had been going on for months . . . and
this Friday I was the lucky candidate who had
been chosen to appear and see if I could guess the
city — a big city — the name of which was buried in
the "Big Chief Windbag" riddle:
"Big Chief Windbag, gloomy and gay
I'm one over others that lie in decay
Where may I be found? Upon low ground
That's all. . . . That's all I will say."
So there I was. And when Art had asked me:
"Well, Mrs. George — there's the riddle and you
have only one guess. Listen carefully." He re-
peated it again. "Mrs. George, what city do you
say is Big Chief Windbag?"
"Cairo, Egypt," I managed to whisper.
That was when he got that peculiar, shocked
expression on his face. (Of course, now I realize
that Art Linkletter is a natural-born tease, and
that he couldn't resist keeping both me and the
audience in suspense just a little J?it longer.)
But I didn't realize it then. And in the ten sec-
onds it took him to speak, I died ten thousand
deaths.
Then it came.
"That ends the contest. YOU ARE THE
WINNER!"
I hope I never come closer to fainting again in
my life. There was a kind of roaring in my ears
that was only partly due to the pandemonium
from the studio audience, and I was genuinely in
need of the bottle of smelling salts that Art Link-
letter pulled out of his pocket and shoved under
my nose. He did it as a gag — but it was no gag
to me.
Imagine! ... I had written a letter — just a brief
simple letter of two paragraphs, expressing my
hope and sympathy to a family in Europe from
my husband and myself. This had earned me —
when Secretary of Agriculture Clinton P. Ander-
son selected mine out of the thousands sent in —
the right to appear on the People Are Funny
show. Then, just two words — two words, mind
you! — Cairo, Egypt — had won for me prizes such
as you could only dream about in an Arabian
Nights tale.
A completely furnished, brand new home — two
bedrooms, den, living room, dining room alcove,
kitchen and service porch. And when I say fur-
nished, I mean beautifully! From lovely sofas and
Inside and out, the house is spic and span and
pretty as Mrs. George's most extravagant dreams.
And complete down to the last stick of furniture.
HW MR Ft/71/K£
chairs to an electric dishwasher, electric stove,
refrigerator — oh, everything! And a 1948 Kaiser
four-door sedan. And if Ward and I wanted to
move to Los Angeles, a job guaranteed for both
of us, in whatever field we were interested in.
This is the bright, lovely future that People Are
Funny have given me. To remember what was
the Past, before that lucky Friday night, I'll take
you back to the preceding Monday of that same
week.
It was a Monday in the small town of Lebanon,
Oregon, where the first day of the week is a work-
day for the men, and wash-day for the housewives.
But I was doing neither. A headache had kept
me home from my part-time job in the plant
nursery, and that same headache made me turn
from the laundry basket with distaste. Instead,
while I cooked my lunch over the electric hot
plate that served us as a stove, my mind went
back to its favorite pastime. Wondering about
the "Big Chief Windbag" riddle.
Weeks ago I had written my letter, and enclosed
ten cents to the family in Europe. Believe me,
ten cents was all I could spare! When you are
living, as we two were, in an eight hundred and
fifty dollar, mail order, imitation paper brick
house on which you still owe six hundred dollars,
ten cents is a lot of money. (Continued on page 80)
W
ff:&*%2
New home, new car. new job — the key to a brand new
life. It's no wonder the Georges wander around in a
lovely daze, patting things and beaming at each other!
I
■
25
There's Jane on the air . . . and
there's Jane at home. It takes a
very perceptive husband to draw
the line that separates these ladies
ANE reads quite a lot. Reads novels. Reads the
fashion magazines. A few whodunits. But she is
not interested, I'm afraid, in the American Scene.
A little confused, let me put it that way, about politics.
You say to Jane, "The domestic situation is tough."
"Yes," she agrees. "Help is hard to get."
The other evening some friends dropped by and
we got to talking about Stalin and Molotov. "Know
what I think?" Jane asked us, "I think they are —
Communists!"
I am often asked to describe the difference, if any,
between Jane Ace and Jane Sherwood — whether, that
is, Jane at home and Jane on the air are "alikes."
"Do you," an acquaintance recently inquired of me,
"play straight man to Jane at home?"
No. No, I do not. Away from the mike, I am not
a straight man. There is no need for me to be since
Jane is not a comedienne off stage. She doesn't try
to be funny. She hates funny women who tell jokes.
She doesn't gab all the time, although she does, now
and again, give you all the details. Nor do I try to be
witty with her. She knows all the answers.
The way it is with Jane Ace (as with Jane Sher-
wood) she doesn't listen very closely to what's going
on. What she does get of what's going on, her mind is
ahead of you. You run into Jane Ace downtown and
"What are you doing downtown?" you ask. The an-
swer is "Just fine!" Or you say to Jane Ace, "That's a
lovely dress you're wearing," and she says, "You do!"
Income tax baffles her. Completely. Come the Ides
of last March and our income tax was, according to
Jane, too high — she really believed the auditor was
splitting it with the Government. "The auditor couldn't
be doing all this," she said, "and getting nothing but
$500 for it!"
And bills. Our bills, Jane laments, are something
made up by a writer for the pulps. All the bills that
come in — "our" bills — I suggest to her, are from
Milgrim, Bergdorf, Saks-Fifth Avenue, coiffeurs. To
which she replies, "Well, never mind. . ."
But this doesn't make Jane any different from, let's
face it, other women. Almost every man I run into
says of Jane (on the air), "My wife is just like that."
3i\ (joodi
[man
as told to Gladys Hall
/W
Unless you find a very erudite woman, a writer, per-
haps, or a female doctor or lawyer, women are like
that; are like Jane Sherwood. So, no less and not so
very much more, is Jane Ace.
It was accidental, pur going on the air. That is, it
was accidental that Jane went on the air.
To begin at the beguine, as Jane would put it, I was
born in Kansas City, Mo., on January 15, 1900. Jane
was also born in Kansas City, Mo., on — well, even her
CBS biography leaves this blank. "To mention a
lady's age," Jane would be sure to say, "I think it's
abdominal!"
My first job was with the old Kansas City Journal-
Post. I wrote a comedy column every day. I was the
motion picture critic. I wrote dramatic criticism — and
anything else they had around the place.
I stayed with it for twelve years before breaking
into radio — meanwhile marrying Jane, who had been
my girl-friend through grade (Continued on page 77)
Mr
^ '■■ ""I lane ;,,-.■ beard Fridaj nisht«
;" 8 id r. |IS.
26
The value of radio? Entertainment
is one answer, education another. And Father
Patrick Peyton can prove that there's a third
FAMILY
Charles Boyer and Ethel Barrymore are two of the busy
stars who make time to cooperate with Father Peyton.
A YOUNG Irish- born priest cherished a
memory, a dream, and a faith.
And through the radio program these
inspired, he has proved that miracles — even in
this materialistic age of ours — can happen in
I) V men's hearts. They are miracles wrought by
family prayer, the cause to which The Family
Theater, presenting first-rate drama with star-
studded casts, is dedicated.
R 0 B B I N '^ne ProSram nas received thousands of let-
ters attesting that the memory, the dream, the
faith are bearing fruit. The Family Theater,
combining prime entertainment with spiritual
COONS values and omitting preachments, is helping to
restore prayer as a vital force in listeners'
homes and lives.
Father Patrick Peyton, C. S. C, remembered
his old home in Ireland, where family prayer
was "as normal as suppertime" and shed its
beneficent glow on his growing-up.
He dreamed of reaching millions with the
message of the power of prayer — prayer which
is not merely a Sunday thing for inside churches
but also an every-day habit inside the heart and
home, as much a part of daily life as eating,
sleeping, working.
He believed, with a sublime faith strength-
ened by his own experience, that such prayer
could lighten human burdens, uplift men's
hearts, save tottering homes, forestall adult as
well as juvenile delinquency.
And so, through his efforts, was born The
Family Theater, heard over Mutual on Thurs-
days at 10 P.M. (EDT).
This, then, is the inspiring story of Father Pat
and his" phenomenally successful program
which, unsponsored and non-commercial, com-
mands the services of Hollywood's greatest stars
to sell a spiritual commodity, the power of
prayer.
As virtually anyone who's tried can tell you,
it is essential to know the ropes if you would
make your place in radio. The beginner's path
is strewn with, thorns, nails, ground glass and
28
It couldn't be done,
till Father Peyton
did it: stars whose
time is measured in
gold give it, for
nothing, to the dra-
matic productions of
Father Peyton's Fam-
ily Theater. Mutual
contributes the time —
Thurs., 10 P.M. EDT.
it PRAYS TO G
carloads of hard commercial facts, and heartless
hucksters he in ambush at every turn.
You wish, for instance, to persuade Bing
Crosby to take the air for you. You've half lost
already. Bing's a busy fellow. He has movies
to think about, and his own radio show, and
benefits, and his ranch, and his family. "Oh,
you couldn't possibly get Bing," you'll be as-
sured.
Father Pat in his zeal didn't think about all
this. He is a huge broth of a man, six feet four,
207 pounds, now aged forty years, sandy-haired,
pink-faced, and by some accounts naive.
To begin near the beginning, one day in 1945
Bing Crosby took a telephone call from New
York.
"Bing," said the voice, "I'm a Catholic priest
from Albany and I want you to do something for
Our Lady."
"Certainly, Father," said Bing.
And on Mother's Day that year, at 7 A. M.,
Bing Crosby went (Continued on page 86)
The value of radio? Entertainment
is one answer, education another. And Father
Patrick Peyton can prove that there's a third
It couldn't be done,
t ill Father Peyton
did it: iters whose
time n measured in
gold |ive it. for
nothing, to the dra-
matic production) ••!
Father Peyton*! liiin-
iK Theater. Mutual
contributes the tune
Tours., 10 p.m. i mi
Charles Boycr and Ethel Burrymore are two of the busy
Itorfl who make lime to cooperate with Father Peyton.
A YOUNG Irish-born priest cherished a
memory, a dream, and a faith.
And through the radio program these
inspired, he has proved that miracles — even in
this materialistic age of ours — can happen in
I) V men's hearts. They are miracles wrought by
family prayer, the cause to which The Family
Theater, presenting first-rate drama with star-
studded casts, is dedicated.
R 0 B B I N *^ne P1"0^1"301 nas received thousands of let-
ters attesting that the memory, the dream, the
faith are bearing fruit. The Family Theater,
combining prime entertainment with spiritual
COONS values and omitting preachments, is helping to
restore prayer as a vital force in listeners'
homes and lives.
Father Patrick Peyton, C. S. C, remembered
his old home in Ireland, where family prayer
was "as normal as suppertime" and shed its
beneficent glow on his growing-up.
He dreamed of reaching millions with the
message of the power of prayer — prayer which
FAMILY
is not merely a Sunday thing for inside churches
but also an every-day habit inside the heart and
home, as much a part of daily life as eating,
sleeping, working.
He believed, with a sublime faith strength-
ened by his own experience, that such prayer
could lighten human burdens, uplift men's
hearts, save tottering homes, forestall adult as
well as juvenile delinquency.
And so, through his efforts, was bom The
Family Theater, heard over Mutual on Thurs-
days at 10 P.M. (EDT).
This, then, is the inspiring story of Father Pat
and his' phenomenally successful program
which, unsponsored and non-commercial, com-
mands the services of Hollywood's greatest stars
to sell a spiritual commodity, the power of
prayer.
As virtually anyone who's tried can tell you.
it is essential to know the ropes if you would
make your place in radio. The beginner's paft
is strewn with thorns, nails, ground glass and
PRAYS TOGETHER
carloads of hard commercial facts, and heartless
hucksters lie in ambush at every turn.
You wish, for instance, to persuade Bing
Crosby to take the air for you. You've half lost
already. Bing's a busy fellow. He has movies
to think about, and his own radio show, and
benefits, and his ranch, and his family. "Oh,
you couldn't possibly get Bing," you'll be as-
sured.
Father Pat in his zeal didn't think about all
this. He is a huge broth of a man, six feet four,
207 pounds, now aged forty years, sandy-haired,
pink-faced, and by some accounts naive.
To begin near the beginning, one day in 1945
Bing Crosby took a telephone call from New
York.
"Bing," said the voice, "I'm a Catholic priest
from Albany and I want you to do something for
Our Lady."
"Certainly, Father." said Bing.
And on Mother's Day that year, at 7 A. M.,
Bins Crosby went (Continued on page 86)
THERE was a time when native Califor-
nians believed that no one but the most
frugal (and probably demented to boot)
truck farmers would ever try to eke out a
living in that flat, hot, very dusty part of the
world known as the San Fernando Valley.
If you had to go to San Fernando, you fig-
ured that Dante, who seemed to be a fellow
who knew his way around the Inferno, ought
to go hand in hand with you.
Then, a few years ago, something hap-
pened. All of a sudden you couldn't buy a
John Scott Trotter says he wants to sell
his ranch. But suppose he gets an offer?
r**»
I
... w
m
_
rrrr
Jack Carson (above) and Fibber McGee
and Molly (Jim and Marian Jordan) are
all Valley dwellers. The Jordans are
a touch unusual, though — Jim is light
on animals, heavier on his gardening.
'
Radio announcer Wendell Niles has exchanged
his animal, a horse, for -a new swimming pool.
postage stamp with a tree on it for under ten
thousand dollars in what had mysteriously,
over night, become "the ultra smart San
Fernando Valley." If gold had been dis-
covered, there couldn't have been a greater
rush, and sixteen-cylinder conestoga wagons
whizzed madly up and down Cahuenga Pass,
which connects Hollywood and the Valley,
by day and by night. The big land grab
was on.
There is a certain wondrous madness,
politely labeled eccentricity, common to all
•
f>r
-J^W»»»i ii -
I
John Scoll Trotler says he wants lo seli
his ranch. Bui suppose he gels an offer?
THERE was a time when native Califor-
nians believed that no one but the most
frugal (and probably demented to boot)
truck fanners would ever try to eke out a
living in that flat, hot, very dusty part of the
world known as the San Fernando Valley
If you had to go to San Fernando, you fig-
ured that Dante, who seemed to be a fellow
who knew his way around the Inferno, ought
to go hand in hand with you.
Then, a few years ago, something hap-
pened. All of a sudden you couldn't buy a
Radio announcer Wendell Niles has exchanged
his animal, a horse, for o new swimming pool.
postage stamp with a tree on it for under ten
thousand dollars in what had mysteriously,
over night, become "the ultra smart San
Fernando Valley." If gold had been dis-
covered, there couldn't have been a greater
rush, and sixteen-cylinder conestoga wagons
whizzed madly up and down Cahuenga Pass,
which connects Hollywood and the Valley,
by day and by night. The big land grab
was on.
There is a certain wondrous madness,
politely labeled eccentricity, common to all
390-acre Melody Ranch bears the Wild West motif
inside and out. It's Mr. and Mrs. Gene Autry's.
From Jack Carson's land there's a good view
John Scott Trotter found
himself 22 acres of fruits.
nuts, and lots of lawn.
valley dwellers. Remember the old t.ong that went Oh,
they keep the pig in the parlor, they keep the pig in the
parlor? At the present writing there are no pigs in the
parlors (no parlors, either, in grandma's sense of the
word) but Gene Autry's horse does live in the Autry
house, Dinah Shore hides a banty rooster in the living
room, Penny Singleton gives shelter to a pair of rabbits
in her private sitting room — all in the now -fabulous
acreage known simply as "The Valley" to the initiated.
Lionel Barrymore, who started the trek and became
the first of the famous to dwell in the Valley, maintains
testily that the most expensive and eccentric farming
ever done was by two elderly ladies who kept a pair
of cows on 34th Street, New York City, while the
metropolis (and the taxes) mounted round them. These
ladies, however, have long since gone to graze their
cattle in a happier land, leaving the Valley dwellers in
sole possession of a privilege which may or may not
be desirable — to farm as farming is known nowhere else
on the face of the earth.
To begin with, the Valley comprises some two hun-
dred and twelve square miles of rich, sun-drenched land
to the north of Los Angeles. It nestles between the
Coast Range on one side and the majestic, snow-
capped Sierra Nevadas on the other. It is reached
through Cahuenga Pass, or one of several other winding
passes through the Coast Range — Cold Water Canyon,
or Laurel Canyon. The would-be farmer can make up
his own mind how far from Hollywood his acres are to
be". The communities, which are really little more than
shopping centers boasting a branch of the Los Angeles
City Hall, string themselves along Route 99 on the
road to San Francisco. Van Nuys, Tarzana, Sherman
Oaks, Canoga Park, Chatsworth and the rest — but to
32
Lassie bought trainer
Rudd Weatherwax a nice
big piece of the Valley.
the natives it's all The Valley, where the amateur has
gone back to the land and the farmer has gone quietly
crazy.
The people who live there are a hardy race. They
work themselves thin making movies or broadcasting
coast to coast for the doubtful joy of racing some thirty-
five to fifty miles home each night to milk a cow who,
for the price, ought to give pink champagne, or tend
a flock of chickens that should lay golden eggs — and
don't.
Take the case of Gale Page. She confided to Bill
Bendix, who's been a Valley dweller for a couple of
years, that she wanted to buy a ranch. "Then you'd
better grab off a radio show to support it," said farm-
wise Bill. Gale bought the ranch — and accepted a radio
offer -when the feed bills began rolling in.
Then there's Lassie,, that hard-working collie farmer.
For him to return to the soil where his forefathers
undoubtedly herded sheep, he has to supplement his
weekly ABC program with all the movies he can lay
paws on. This provides him with a cow and with
chickens "which produce about two dozen eggs a day
at approximately five dollars the dozen. Of course it
also enables him to take the air on his own private
prairie, away from the hustle and noise of the city, and
to entertain as non-paying guests some twenty-four
canine friends, assorted ducks, pigeons, horses, and his
favorite white cat. According to owner-trainer Rudd
Weatherwax, who works the ranch, Lassie is entitled
to his fair share of the good things of this world. Just
the same, it's the most expensive Noah's Ark on record!
Jovial Tom Breneman, a Valley resident at the time
of his death, was a chicken-raiser, as a man with break-
fast on his mind might well be. {Continued on page 84)
33
valley dwellers. Remember the old ^ong that went Oh,
they keep the pig in the parlor, they keep the pig in the
parlor? At the present writing there are no pigs in the
parlors (no parlors, either, in grandma's sense of the
word) but Gene Autry's horse does live in the Autry
house, Dinah Shore hides a banty rooster in the living
room, Penny Singleton gives shelter to a pair of rabbits
in her private sitting room — all in the now-fabulous
acreage known simply as "The Valley" to the initiated.
Lionel Barrymore, who started the trek and became
the first of the famous to dwell in the Valley, maintains
testily that the most expensive and eccentric farming
ever done was by two elderly ladies who kept a pair
of cows on 34th Street, New York City, while the
metropolis (and the taxes) mounted round them. These
ladies, however, have long since gone to graze their
cattle in a happier land, leaving the Valley dwellers in
sole possession of a privilege which may or may not
be desirable — to farm as farming is known nowhere else
on the face of the earth.
To begin with, the Valley comprises some two hun-
dred and twelve square miles of rich, sun-drenched land
to the north of Los Angeles. It nestles between the
Coast Range on one side and the majestic, snow-
capped Sierra Nevadas on the other. It is reached
through Cahuenga Pass, or one of several other winding
passes through the Coast Range— Cold Water Canyon,
or Laurel Canyon. The would-be farmer can make up
his own mind how far from Hollywood his acres are to
be: The communities, which are really little more than
shopping centers boasting a branch of the Los Angeles
City Hall, string themselves along Route 99 on the
road to San Francisco. Van Nuys, Tarzana, Sherman
Oaks, Canoga Park, Chatsworth and the rest— but to
(
the natives it's all The Valley, where the amateur has
gone back to the land and the farmer has gone quietly
crazy.
The people who live there are a hardy race. They
work themselves thin making movies or broadcasting
coast to coast for the doubtful joy of racing some thirty-
five to fifty miles home each night to milk a cow who,
for the price, ought to give pink champagne, or tend
a nock of chickens that should lay golden eggs — and
don't.
Take the case of Gale Page. She confided to Bill
Bendix, who's been a Valley dweller for a couple of
years, that she wanted to buy a ranch. "Then you'd
better grab off a radio show to support it," said farm-
wse Bill. Gale bought the ranch — and accepted a radio
offer when the feed bills began rolling in.
Then there's Lassie,, that hard-working collie farmer.
For him to return to the soil where his forefathers
undoubtedly herded sheep, he has to supplement his
weekly ABC program with all the movies he can lay
paws on. This provides him with a cow and with
chickens which produce about two dozen eggs a day
at approximately five dollars the dozen. Of course it
also enables him to take the air on his own private
prairie, away from the hustle and noise of the city, and
to entertain as non-paying guests some twenty-four
canine friends, assorted ducks, pigeons, horses, and his
favorite white cat. According to owner-trainer Rudd
Weatherwax, who works the ranch, Lassie is entitled
to his fair share of the good things of this world. Just
the same, it's the most expensive Noah's Ark on record!
Jovial Tom Breneman, a Valley resident at the time
of his death, was a chicken -raiser, as a man with break-
fast on his mind might well be. (Continued on page 84)
JOYCE JORDAN. M.D.
P
M
dii"
m
* • - j a < I y i
*
MRS. IRIS BLAKELEY is wealthy, socially powerful, devoted to her attractive son DAWSON. She bitterly
resents the love between Dawson and Joyce, but knows she is indebted to Joyce's skill as a surgeon for
Dawson's being able to walk. A recent plane crash had crippled Dawson, and there seemed no hope for him.
until Joyce performed her magnificent operation. (Mrs. Blakely is Elizabeth Watts; Dawson is Les Tremayne)
JOYCE JORDAN'S brilliant career as
a surgeon has not prevented her from
developing into a desirable, vital woman.
She came to New York recently from
Centerfield, and built up a private
practice. Joyce made both her office
and her home in one of the city's
old, quiet brownstone neighborhoods.
(Played by Gertrude Warner)
Joyce Jordan, M.D., is heard Man.
through Fri. at 10:45 A.M. EDT, NBC.
ERNEST EDEN is Joyce's 14-year-old foster son,
child of a man who loved Joyce, and who died
in China. Ernest and the friendly, warm-hearted
maid Celia are now the whole of Joyce's family.
(Ernest is played by Larry Robinson;
Celia is played by Amanda Randolph)
35
^
JOYCE J 0 RDM, M. D. ^ & s/Ly /&
DIANE OGDEN, wife of Centerfield minister Rev. Gregory
Ogden, was sincerely anxious to be a credit to her husband.
But fun-loving, clothes-conscious Diane was not the town's idea
of a proper clergyman's wife, and she was too inexperienced to
handle the suspicious dislike of her critics. Lonely, discouraged,
Diane was delighted to see her cousin Edgar Jarvis, who paid
an unexpected visit to Centerfield one day when Gregory hap-
pened to be out of town. When Diane said goodbye to Edgar
at the airport, she felt for the first time in months that she was
not completely friendless. But talkative Leah Bartel, who wit-
nessed the leave-taking, knew only that she had seen the min-
ister's wife kissing a handsome young man. She lost no time in
spreading the news around. The town heard Leah's description
with satisfied nods. Speculation pressed so hard against the
private lives of the Ogdens that Gregory felt it was hopeless to
go on. He prepared to resign his Centerfield parish, leave town
forever. But Diane was no weakling. All at once her native
courage and sense of fair play asserted themselves. She spoke
to Leah Bartel, making a plea for herself that was at the same
time an attack on Centerfield narrowness. Somehow she found
words to explain how her youth and inexperience had created a
false impression — and how the town had failed in tolerance.
36
zs4tvn&
'btew-h Mile
So Gregory was spared heart-
break— he kept his church. With
Leah's attitude so changed that
she became a close friend, Diane
was able to make other friends
in Centerfield, and the Ogdens
took their place as leading, re-
spected members of the commu-
nity. To add to their happiness,
one day Dr. Joyce Jordan deliv-
ered Diane of a baby son. (Greg-
ory Ogden is played by Boyd
Crawford ; Diane Ogden is played
by Virginia Dwyer; Edgar Jarvis
is James Monks; Leah Bartel is
Ida Heinemann.)
BARGAIN
It was a timid lad who came to
sell
A pail of string beans at my
kitchen door.
I do no canning, but I bought
the beans,
And said: "How nice; do give
me two pails more!" -
I knew that they were stringy,
• tough, and scorched
By the drought-sun that flames
the Ozark skies —
And now. I sit and stare at all
the beans
I bought, to see success in a
child's, eyes.
■ — Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
WHEN YOU HAVE NO CHOICE
Why must you be so pitiless O heart
That has so pitifully brief an hour
To beat, to ease this raw and bitter
smart,
To lean austerely from your narrow
tower
And comfort the lost wanderer?
Share now
Your fire; take that chilled hand in
your own
And let love place his kiss upon
your brow.
This life is so precarious a loan.
Soon, soon you will lie still in end-
less night,
Forever undisturbed by my despair
Although I beat your gate with
reckless might
And cry your name on the un-
answering air.
You will be deaf to the most vibrant
voice,
Cold and unmoving— when you
have no choice.
— Ethel Jacobson
Verses to stir the surface of your mind as gently as a sumrue
////
STUDIES IN GEOMETRY
When I was small —
Oh, five or four —
My world was a circle,
Nothing more.
I, standing at center,
Could not sense
Beyond the bright
Circumference ;
All things were good
But ' in degree
As they brought happiness
To me.
I've seen the small
Bright circle change
To geometric
Figures, strange
And awesome;
I have found my place
At apex, corner,
Or at base.
Today I cannot
Quite define
The shape of world
I now call, mine;
And as for my
Location in it,
That shifts about
With every minute . . .
At last I count it
Very grand
When I find any
Place to stand! ,
— B. Y. Williams
^ *& &
*_ *
PRAYER FOR ANY WIFE
Lord, let my golden store
'Of laughter, as I pour
■«b-
It from its pitcher, be
Replenished, so that he
F
May always have it when
He wishes it — for men
■^^
Need it from women's lips.
And if the pitcher tips
-^
fi
With difficulty now
* / *
And then. Lord, show me how.
In the face of fear or doubt,
To get good laughter out.
— Elaine V. Emans '
By TED MALONE
Be sure to listen to Ted
Malone's morning program,
Monday through Friday
at 11:45 EDT, over ABC.
LAST LAP
"How you have grown, my son! I swan.
When you were just a little chap
You often liked to sit upon
My lap!"
"You, too, have grown since days remote,
For, Dad, the lap I sat upon
When just a little chap, I note
Is gone!"
—Addison H. Hallock
*S*K
EXOTIC
I've tried so many heavenly scents,
But alas for my noble experiments!
Comes romantic dusk, my husband prefers
The fragrance of onions and hamburgers!
— May Richstone
RADIO MIRROR will pay fifty dollars
for the original poem, sent in by a reader, selected by Ted Malone
as the best of that month's poems submitted by readers. Five dollars
will be paid for each other original poem submitted and printed
on the Between the Bookends pages in Radio Mirror. Address your
poetry to Ted Malone, Radio Mirror, 205 East 42nd Street, New
York 17, N. Y. Poetry submitted should be limited to thirty lines.
When postage is enclosed every effort will be made to return un-
used manuscripts. This is not a contest, but an offer to purchase
poetry for Radio Mirror's Between the Bookends.
$ «S*fc
V
////
/ /
!H> *-.■'•«'
I
■fHi
~-_ *
LOST SON
Radio Miirpr's Prize Poem
Never again will his deft leet follow
The pasture-pond that was round and
shallow.
Yet somehow, strangely, he walks there
still.
Swinging his lantern — a ribbon ol flame
Threading the dark; and I call his name!
But only my echo shouts back irom the
hill.
Only grey silence drifts up from the
meadow.
Yet still, I say, I can see hiB shadow.
Oh, always in spirit he'll cross this land;
And only a mother can see him pass.
Bending the tassels of haunted grass,
The years' light locked in his young,
brown hand!
— Pauline Havard
; i!i \TI<: CALENDAR
' How shall I know that I'm growing old
If lime loaves no tell-tale trace?
If no silver gleqmi in my dusky hair
And no furrows indent my face?
I shall know at last that I'm growing
old.
Though no record of years I keep:
When I weep at things that once made
me smile
And smile of what made me weep.
— Anastasla Thomas
BARGAIN
It was a timid lad who came to
sell
A pail of string beans at my
kitchen door.
I do no canning, but I bought
the beans,
And said: "How nice; do give
me two pails more!"
I knew that they were stringy,
. tough, and scorched
By the drought-sun that flames
the Ozark skies —
And now. I sit and stare at all
the beans
I bought, to see success in a
child's, eyes.
■ — Rosa Zagnooi Marinoni
WHEN YOU HAVE NO CHOll I
Why must you be so pitiless O heart
That has so pitifully brief an hour
To beat, to ease this raw and bitter
smart,
To lean austerely from your narrow
tower
And comfort the lost wanderer?
Share now
Your fire; take that chilled hand in
your own
And let love place his kiss upon
your brow.
This life is so precarious a loan.
Soon, soon you will lie still in end-
less night,
Forever undisturbed by my despair
Although I beat your gate with
reckless might
And cry your name on the un-
voice,
Cold and unmoving — when you
have no choice.
— Ethel Jacobson
'i?me?isM
STUDIES IN GEOMETRY
When I was small —
Oh, five or four —
My world was a circle,
Nothing more.
I, standing at center,
Could not sense
Beyond the bright
Circumference;
All things were good
But in degree
As they brought happiness
To me.
I've seen the small
Bright circle change
To geometric
Figures, strange
And awesome;
I have found my place
At apex, corner,
Or at base.
Today I cannot
Quite define
The shape of world
I now call. mine;
And as for my
Location in it,
That shifts about
With every minute . . .
At last I count it
Very grand
When I find any
Place to stand! ,
— B. Y. Williams
EXOTIC
I've tried so many heavenly scents.
But alas for my noble experiments!
Comes romantic dusk, my husband prefer
The fragrance of onions and hamburgers
— May Richstone
*»* *-»tw
PRAYER FOR \m WIFE
Lord, let my golden store
R N
Of laughter, as I pour
L* ~
It from its pitcher, be
^£<
Replenished, so that he
F^
May always have it when
He wishes it — for men
~^*A
Need it from women's lips.
^
And if the pitcher tips
With difficulty now
y^\j i
And then. Lord, show me how.
In the face of fear or doubt.
To get good laughter out.
— Elaine V. EmanF
By TED MALONE
Be sore to listen to Ted
Malone's morning program,
Mondar through Friday
at 11:45 EDT, over ABC.
LAST LAP
"Hew you have grown/ my son! I iwon.
When you were just a little chap
You often liked to tit upon
My lop!"
"You, too, have grown since days remote.
For, Dad, the lap I tat upon
When just a little chap, I note
Is gone!"
— Additon H. Hallock
RADIO MIRROR will' pay fifty dollars
for the original poem, sent in by a reader, selected by Ted Malone
as the best of that month's poems submitted by readers. Five dollars
will he paid for each other original poem submitted and printed
on the Between the Bookends pages in Radio Mirror. Address your
poetry to Ted Malone, Radio Mirror, 205 East 42nd Street, New
York 17, N. Y. Poetry submitted should be limited to thirty lines.
When postage is enclosed every effort will be made to return un-
used manuscripts. This is not a contest, but an offer to purchase
poetry for Radio Mirror's Between the Bookends.
Verses to stir the surface «>f your mind M gently a (
peez 4 passing ovemwater
viv
n
$ **
1947 Lead a Band winner
was 17-year-old Rodney Andrews, of
Dayton, Ohio. Hell invest
his prize in a musical education.
Sammy's autograph is in many copies of his Sunday Sere*
nade Book of Poetry — the book that led to his Poetry Con-
test, last won by Mrs. B, Y, Williams (below) of Cincinnati,
LEAD thBANDl
"A
Sammy Kaye suspected that lots of people would welcome
the chance to lead a band. Here's the story of how right he was
By DAVID 0. ALBER
Sammy Kaye' a Press Agent
SAMMY KAYE has been surprising me for eleven
years.
He surprised me with the originality of his music
the first time I heard it, which was on the radio and
from an out-of-town station. And he surprised me the
first time I saw him a year later.
His dreamy, melodic style had led me to expect a
somewhat romantic personality. The last thing I was
prepared for was a tawny-haired, blue- eyed young man,
slender but with an athlete's build. At that time I did
not know that he had won his letters at Ohio State Uni-
versity in football, baseball, basketball and track. In
fact, I did not know anything about him except that I
thought his music was wonderful and that I had picked
him for a client a year before.
Now, what was somewhat more important, he was at
last considering engaging me as his press agent.
. I had my fingers crossed, hoping that our first inter-
view would go well enough to lead to further discus-
sions and that, before long, I would add him to my list.
I had more than just a professional interest in his band.
I. am a band fan — always have been. It was pleasure
for me, as well as business, to listen to all of the new
bands that were coming along.
I was crazy about Sammy's style from the first time I
heard him. I liked the distinctive tricks he used. I liked
his vocalists, and I liked his slogan, "Swing and Sway
with Sammy Kaye." So I wrote to Jim Peppe — who was
then Kaye's manager, and is now associated with Mike
Nidorf in his management — outlining what publicity
services my office could offer.
Nothing came of it, but I ran around town raving
about Sammy Kaye's band, anyway, telling everybody"
to listen to him and watch him become a star before he
ever had a play date in New York — a thing that almost
never happens to a band.
Sammy gave me another surprise that first morning.
We talked for twenty minutes or so about what was
required in the way of publicity for his first New York
engagement, and I was hired! (Continued on page 90)
41
If*
. wjCXS-;..
The off-the-air part of the program:
Rheba and Pat were married in the
Chapman Park Chapel by Rev. Alden Hill.
r
AND
IN
Never mix business with pleasure —
that's a rule. But rules, after all, are
made to be broken. Especially by people in love
By JOHN NELSON
M.C. ol Bride and Groom, heard Monday through Friday at 2:30 EDT
on ABC, tells this story from the program's 6les for Radio Mirror.
42
WHENEVER we are being interviewed about the pro-
gram, the interviewer invariably gets around to
saying, "Sure, it all sounds wonderful. But what
about after the honeymoon? How many Bride and
Groom couples really stick together?"
Love that question! It gives us another chance to brag
up a set of figures that we're really proud of — figures
showing that the divorce rate for Bride and Groom
marriages is so much lower than the national rate as to
be practically non-existent!
The interviewer's next question, of course, is always,
"How does that happen? Why should your couples turn
out to be more sincere than the average couple when
they make their vows about ''. . . till death do us part?' "
We've asked ourselves that question, and we think
we've come up with the two most important answers.
First, and most obvious, is the fact that our board of
judges is mighty careful when it comes to approving a
couple's appearance on the broadcast. Each application
(and we receive several hundred a month) is judged
not only for the dramatic and human interest of the
couple's love story, but also for the couple's attitude
towards marriage. Do they realize that it's an adult job
they're taking on — and that marriage usually includes
times that aren't all laughter and glamor and romance?
Their answer must be a decided affirmative to that, as
well as to the important question of "Are you truly and
happily in love?" before the judges will write "Ap-
proved" on their application.
We've decided that the second reason, to explain the
unusual record of lasting happiness among Bride and
Groom couples, is a simple one — we've been just plain
lucky in the kind of people who have been married in
connection with our program.
A wonderful example of this was a very recent
couple — Rheba LaVene Smith and Patrick B. Raymond.
In fact, Rheba and Pat were such an unusually swell
couple, and their love story so special- and interesting,
that we arranged for them to have a really super-
honeymoon. To explain how that came about, I'll have
to explain first a little about the three co-owners of the
Bride and Groom program.
To start with, all three of us have one thing in com-
mon— our first names are "John." First, is John Mas-
terson. He originated the idea of the program, and is
sort of our director-in-chief (in addition to being man-
aging-partner of the Breakfast in Hollywood program) .
Then there's John Reddy, our manager, who not only
handles the administrative and executive chores, but
who also arranges for the more than half million dollars
.'
A DOUBIE PARTNERSHIP
l
Why wouldn't
John Nelson love
his job? The
brides, delighted
with their Bride
and Groom gifts,
always end by
kissing him . . .
as did Rheba.
Rheba was a singer, Pat was her agent. But Fat's
mother saw them this way, from the beginning.
43 '
The off-the-ah- part of the program:
Ttheba «nd Pat were married in the
Chapman Park Chapel by Rev. Alden Hill.
4F*
7
f
1A7HENEVER we are being interviewed about the pro-
f J gram, the interviewer invariably gets around to
u ? y^g' f^\ " *"■ SOUnds won<ierful. But what
about after the honeymoon? How many Bride and
Groom couples really stick together?"
Love that question! It gives us another chance to brae
up a set of figures that we're really proud of— figures
showing that the divorce rate for Bride and Groom
marriages is so much lower than the national rate as to
be practically non-existent!
The interviewer's next question, of course, is always
How does that happen? Why should your couples turn
out to be more sincere than the average couple when
they make their vows about''. . . till death do us part'' "
Weve asked ourselves that question, and we think
we've come up with the two most important answers
First, and most obvious, is the fact that our board of
judges is mighty careful when it comes to approving a
couple's appearance on the broadcast. Each application
(and we receive several hundred a month) is judged
not only for the dramatic and human interest of the
couple's love story, but also for the couple's attitude
towards marriage. Do they realize that it's an adult job
they're taking on— and that marriage usually includes
times that aren't all laughter and glamor and romance?
Their answer must be a decided affirmative to that, as
well as to the important question of "Are you truly and
happily in love?" before the judges will write "Ap-
proved on their application.
We've decided that the second reason, to explain the
unusual record of lasting happiness among Bride and
Groom couples, is a simple one— we've been just plain
lucky in the kind of people who have been married in
connection with our program.
A wonderful example of this was a very recent
couple— Rheba LaVene Smith and Patrick B. Raymond.
In fact, Rheba and Pat were such an unusually swell
couple, and their love story so special, and interesting,
that we arranged for them to have a really super-
honeymoon. To explain how that came about, I'll have
to explain first a little about the three co-owners of the
Bride and Groom program.
To start with, all three of us have one thing in com-
mon—our first names are "John." First, is John Mas-
terson. He originated the idea of the program, and is
sort of our director-in-chief (in addition to being man-
aging-partner of the Breakfast in Hollywood program).
Then there's John Reddy, our manager, who not only
handles the administrative and executive chores, but
who also arranges for the more than half million dollars
Never mix business with pleasure
that's a rule. But rules, after all, are
made to be broken. Especially by people in love
A DOUBLE PARTNERSHIP
By JOHN NELSON
M.C. ol Bride mid Groom, heard Monday throuih Friday at 2:30 EDT
on ABC, (elta thia iiory from the program'* Slea for Radio Mirror.
Why wouldn't
John Nelson love
his job? The
brides, delighted
with their Bride
and Groom gifts,
always end by
kissing him . . .
as did Rheba.
AND
Aram
IN A DOUBLE PARTNERSHIP
worth of gifts awarded to Bride and Groom couples
each year. Finally, there's myself, John Nelson.
The three of us got together during college days,
at Gonzaga University in Spokane, Washington.
(Gonzaga was also the alma mater of another fellow
you may have heard in radio — a fellow named Bing
Crosby.) Those were swell days and, as a result,
we've never stopped being boosters for the State of
Washington.
THAT was how it happened that the application of
Rheba Smith and Pat Raymond, after being ap-
proved by the judges, was brought to our special
attention. For Pat, in explaining why he wanted to
be married in connection with Bride and Groom, had
written: "Ever since I first met Rheba, I've been
enthusing about Washington as being the best and
most beautiful state in the union. A Bride and Groom
honeymoon would make it possible for me to show
her that I wasn't exaggerating!"
That was all it took. Masterson, Reddy, and I
started sending wires and making long-distance calls
to everyone we knew in Spokane — "You've got to
back us up in all the praise we've heaped on Wash-
ington, by showing this couple the best time any
newly weds ever had on any honeymoon!"
Before the honeymoon, of course, there was the
broadcast, which means the love story. Pat and
Rheba's love story started a little more than a year
ago, right here in Hollywood. Pat was then working
as a literary agent with the Rosalie Stewart Agency.
"Stories and writers were my specialty," he ex-
plained, "but, of course, I was always on the lookout
for any talented person who might be interested in
having the agency represent them. In fact, I'd asked
my friends to let me know if they ran across anyone
who looked promising."
But, being a good agent in Hollywood means be-
ing not too naive about glowing praise of unknown
hopefuls. Hollywood Boulevard, the Sunset Strip —
pick any street in Hollywood and you're pretty apt
to find it crowded with people looking for a break
in the movies or in radio. Unfortunately, too many
of them aren't equipped with the talent needed to
earn and hold such a break.
So, when Pat's own mother called him one day to
talk about a "wonderfully talented girl" who lived
right around the corner from her, Pat was polite but
skeptical. "But you've got to arrange an audition for
this girl," his mother insisted. "Why, the whole
neighborhood is talking about her wonderful singing."
"But, Mother," Pat protested, "there's a big differ-
ence between a voice that happens to be sweet enough
to entertain neighborhood friends, and a voice well-
trained enough to interest hard-boiled producers
who are used to top-ranking professionally trained
singers."
Finally, to please his mother, rather than with any
hope of discovering a new star, Pat telephoned Rheba
and suggested that she send him a couple of pictures
of herself, along with a recording of her voice. "Only
someone who's been in the same position will know
how excited I was about that call," Rheba explains
•now. "And to make it worse, I didn't have any
A gift to be treasured : from Rev. Hill
At Grand Coulee dam : awesome machinery ...
recording. I was afraid to tell Pat that — he sounded
so professional over the phone — afraid that he'd dis-
miss me as a completely hopeless amateur." *
However, Pat did have pictures of herself, so took
a chance and sent them to Pat without a recording.
"I found myself paying a lot more attention to those,
pictures than an agent usually does to pictures of a
possible client," Pat admitted later. "I'd seen a lot
of beautiful girls in Hollywood, but there was some-
thing about Rheba's picture that should have told me
I'd finally found The Girl."
. . . and wonderful shots for the family album.
Instead, Pat finally put the pictures away, telling
himself that it would be Rheba's voice, not her at-
tractiveness, that would tell the story. But he wasn't
given a chance to forget her — in the next few days
he received phone calls from at least six of the
women in his mother's neighborhood, each one sing-
ing the praises of Rheba and her voice. "It all began
to sound like the old story of someone trying to get
attention by having friends and relatives pose as
admiring fans. Usually, that sort of thing is done by
some spoiled brat with little (Continued on page 88)
e?
<S?
to Rheba, a book on marriage.
Rheba played the wedding party's exit march on her new Bride and Groom spinet.
45
; AND \lhffV% IN "A DOUBLE PARTNERSHIP
worth of gifts awarded to Bride and Groom couples
each year. Finally, there's myself, John Nelson.
The three of us got together during college days,
at Gonzaga University in Spokane, Washington.
(Gonzaga was also the alma mater of another fellow
you may have heard in radio — a fellow named Bing
Crosby.) Those were swell days and, as a result,
we've never stopped being boosters for the State of
Washington.
THAT was how it happened that the application of ■
Rheba Smith and Pat Raymond, after being ap-
proved by the judges, was brought to our special
attention. For Pat, in explaining why he wanted to
be married in connection with Bride and Groom, had
written: "Ever since I first met Rheba, I've been
enthusing about Washington as being the best and
most beautiful state in the union. A Bride and Groom
honeymoon would make it possible for me to show
her that I wasn't exaggerating!"
That was all it took. Masterson, Reddy, and I
started sending wires and making long-distance calls
to everyone we knew in Spokane — "You've got to
back us up in all the praise we've heaped on Wash-
ington, by showing this couple the best time any
newlyweds ever had on any honeymoon!"
Before the honeymoon, of course, there was the
broadcast, which means the love story. Pat and
Rheba's love story started a little more than a year
ago, right here in Hollywood. Pat was then working
as a literary agent with the Rosalie Stewart Agency.
"Stories and writers were my specialty," he ex-
plained, "but, of course, I was always on the lookout
for any talented person who might be interested in
having the agency represent them. In fact, I'd asked
my friends to let me know if they ran across anyone
who looked promising."
But, being a good agent in Hollywood means be-
ing not too naive about glowing praise of unknown
hopefuls. Hollywood Boulevard, the Sunset Strip —
pick any street in Hollywood and you're pretty apt
to find it crowded with people looking for a break
in the movies or in radio. Unfortunately, too many
of them aren't equipped with the talent needed to
earn and hold such a break.
So, when Pat's own mother called him one day to
talk about a "wonderfully talented girl" who lived
right around the corner from her, Pat was polite but
skeptical. "But you've got to arrange an audition for
this girl," his mother insisted. "Why, the whole
neighborhood is talking about her wonderful singing."
"But, Mother," Pat protested, "there's a big differ-
ence between a voice that happens to be sweet enough
to entertain neighborhood friends, and a voice well-
trained enough to interest hard-boiled producers
who are used to top-ranking professionally trained
singers."
Finally, to please his mother, rather than with any
hope of discovering a new star, Pat telephoned Rheba
and suggested that she send him a couple of pictures
of herself, along with a recording of her voice. "Only
someone who's been in the same position will know
how excited I was about that call," Rheba explains
now. "And to make it worse, I didn't have any
f
Al Grand Conlee dam: awesome machinery
recording. I was afraid to tell Pat that-he sounded
so professional over the phone— afraid that he'd dis-
miss me as a completely hopeless amateur " •
However, Pat did have pictures of herself, so took
a chance ^d ^nt them (o Pgt ^^ & r
I found myself paying a lot more attention to those
pictures than an agent usually does to pictures of a
possible client, Pat admitted later. "I'd seen a lot
of beautiful girls in Hollywood, but there was some-
thing about Rheba's picture that should have told me
Id finally found The Girl."
... and wonderful shots lor Ihe family album.
Instead, Pat finally put the pictures away, telling
himself that it would be Rheba's voice, not her at-
tractiveness, that would tell the story. But he wasn't
given a chance to forget her— in the next few days
he received phone calls from at least six of the
women in his mother's neighborhood, each one sing-
ing the praises of Rheba and her voice. "It all began
to sound like the old story of someone trying to get
attention by having friends and relatives pose as
admiring fans. Usually, that sort of thing is done by
some spoiled brat with little (Continued on page 88)
A gift to be treasured: from H«v.Bi» I '» Rheba, a book on marriage.
Rheba played the wedding party'* exit marrh on hrr nrw Bride and Groom spinel.
GENE O'DONNEL is Bar-
ney Blake, Police Report-
er (Thurs. 9:30 P.M.
NBC) . He broke into act-
ing via summer stock,
and after an Army de-
tour returned to the stage
and television. Born in
Des Moines, Gene made
Hollywood his home town
long enough to be seen
in many movies and
heard in Lux Theater, Big
Town, Sherlock Holmes.
JOHNNY DESMOND is
half of the singing team
of CBS -TV's Face the
Music, Mon. and Wed.,
7:15 P.M. Johnny began
as a boy soprano in De-
troit. When his voice
dropped, he made a
switch to radio acting,
and was heard in Lone
Ranger, Green Hornet,
and other Detroit pro-
grams. Then he came of
age, and went back to
singing with Bob Crosby,
Gene Krupa and eventu-
ally Glenn Miller. With
the Miller Band, Johnny
sang all over Europe, in-
cluding a couple of per-
formances for royalty.
Johnny is as telegenic as
his partner on Face the
Music, Shaye Cogan,
which makes their tune-
ful offering attractive to
watch. They are backed
by the Tony Mottola Trio.
KYLE MACDONNELL
stars in NBC's For Your
Pleasure, Thurs., 8 P.M.
EDT, and then rushes to
Broadway for her part
in "Make Mine Manhat-
tan," in which her tall
blonde beauty and ap-
pealing voice win raves.
Kyle was a Conover Mod-
el before her first Broad-
way job in "Park Ave."
Over Dumont station WABD, Monica Lewis projected
GRACE GIOE is known
as "Aunt Grace" to the
thousands of youngsters
who see and hear her
Birthday Party television
show every Thursday
night at 7 over the Du-
Mont station WABD.
"Aunt Grace" was born
Grace Catherine Gioe, in
1921, in Brooklyn, and
still lives there. She re-
ceived her early educa-
tion in St. Angela Hall
Academy and followed by
graduating Marymount
College in 1942 in Tarry-
town, New York. Grace
handles the whole Party
show from auditioning
the youngsters to acting
as moderator and m.c.
IN^RADIO errors can be covered up with no all-
seeing camera eye to worry about; and in Hollywood
if something goes wrong they merely stop and do the
scene over again. But in television once the action has
begun, nothing can stop it. A classic example is the
time they were doing a dramatic skit at WNBT in
Radio City. When they came to the place in the script
where a marriage was to take place in a tiny weather
station in Alaska, everyone was grouped about in
heavy furs, the happy couple and the minister were
ready, and the best man crossed to the old-fashioned
Victrola that was to play "The Wedding March." As
he placed the arm to the record, the needle fell out
and disappeared! The bride and bridegroom franti-
cally ad-libbed while other members of the cast got
down on hands and knees to search for the missing
needle; for the cameras just had to keep grinding. The
needle was found and the action continued with the
actors perspiring a little more than usual.
* * *
With the baseball season at its height — let's take a
look behind the scenes at how a game is televised.
The televising re.quires as finely co-ordinated team
work as the winning of a big-league match. To do a
video broadcast also requires more men than are on a
ball team. The list includes the announcer, his spotter,
46
RADIO
MIRROR
a personality as attractive as her song interpretation.
two cameramen, program director, audio engineer, two
video control technicians, a switch technician and a
transmitter supervisor. When doubleheaders are
played two crews are used, except for the announcer
and his spotter, because of the fatiguing concentration
required. The two television cameras that are used to
telecast a baseball game are located in a camera booth
hung from the upper tier behind home plate. In the
same booth are the announcer and his spotter. While
two cameras continuously follow the action of the
baseball game and catch different views, only one of
them is sent out over the air. The program director
decides which view is broadcast. He and his crew are
housed in a television control room under the stands.
In front of the director are two screens — one for each
camera. It is his task to decide instantly which view
is the better and order it transmitted.
* * *
NEWSREELS are proving to be extremely popular on
television; and why not — pictures of news and spe-
cial events reach the televiewer as quickly as the day
they occur. The Camel Newsreel Theater,.for example,
which is seen at 7:50 every week-day evening over
the NBC network — and the films are flown to other
video stations throughout the country — shows Fox-
Movietone newsreels days before they can be shown
Dumont's wrestling-match commentator, Dennis James,
is as popular with the audience as Gorgeous George.
At "Arch of Triumph" opening, NBC-TV's Bob Stanton
caught Ingrid Bergman for her first television appearance.
in theaters. And the theaters are getting nervous.
# * *
Word comes from France that despite limited budg-
ets, television there is forging ahead. Radiodiffusion
Francais executive Jacques Armand told recently of
plans for a video station complete with a large swim-
ming pool to be used for underwater scenes!
* * *
Television courses have been given in Eastern col-
leges for several years — but only for the technical side
of the medium. However, North Texas Agricultural
College, at Arlington, Texas, will offer advanced
speech courses tailored to the television industry in
the Fall. (Continued on page 79)
TELEVISION
SECTION
47
I
GENE O'DONNEL is Bar-
ney Blake, Police Report-
er (Thurs. 9:30 P.M.
NBC). He broke into act-
ing via summer stock,
and after an Army de-
tour returned to the stage
and television. Born in
Dcs Moines, Gene made
Hollywood his home town
long enough to be seen
in many movies and
heard in Lux Theater, Big
Town, Sherlock Holmes.
JOHNNY DESMOND is
half of the singing team
of CBS -TV's Face the
Music, Mon. and Wed.,
7:15 P.M. Johnny began
as a boy soprano in De-
troit. When his voice
dropped, he made a
switch to radio acting,
and was heard in Lone
Ranger, Green Hornet,
and other Detroit pro-
grams. Then he came of
age, and went back to
singing with Bob Crosby,
Gene Krupa and eventu-
ally Glenn Miller. With
the Miller Band, Johnny
sang all over Europe, in-
cluciiiu; a couple of per-
formances for royalty.
Johnny is as telegenic as
his partner on Face the
Music, Shave Cogan,
which makes their tune-
ful offering attractive to
watch. They are backed
by the Tony Mottola Trio.
KYLE MACDONNELL
stars in NBC's For Your
Pleasure, Thurs., 8 P.M,
EDT, and then rushes to
Broadway for her part
in "Make Mine Manhat-
tan," in which her tall
blonde beauty and ap-
pealing voice win raves.
Kyle was a Conover Mod-
el before her first Broad-
way job in "Park Ave."
GRACE GIOE is known
as "Aunt Grace" to the
thousands of youngsters
who see and hear her
Birthday Party television
show every Thursday
night at 7 over the Du-
Mont station WABD.
"Aunt Grace" was bom
Grace Catherine Gioe, in
1921, in Brooklyn, and
still lives there. She re-
ceived her early educa-
tion in St. Angela Hall
Academy and followed by
graduating Mary mount
College in 1942 in Tarry-
town, New York. Grace
handles the whole Party
show from auditioning
the youngsters to acting
as moderator and m.c.
Over Diiniont slat
IN^RADIO errors can be covered up with, no all-
seeing camera eye to worry about; and in Hollywood
if something goes wrong they merely stop and do the
scene over again. But in television once the action has
begun, nothing can stop it. A classic example is the
time they were doing a dramatic skit at WNBT in
Radio City. When they came to the place in the script
where a marriage was to take place in a tiny weather
station in Alaska, everyone was grouped about in
heavy furs, the happy couple and the minister were
ready, and the best man crossed to the old-fashioned
Victrola that was to play "The Wedding March " As
he placed the arm to the record, the needle fell out
and disappeared! The bride and bridegroom franti-
cally ad-libbed while other members of the cast got
down on hands and knees to search for the missing
needle; for the cameras just had to keep grinding. The
needle was found and the action continued with the
actors perspiring a little more than usual.
With the baseball season at its height— let's take a
look behind the scenes at how a game is televised.
The televising requires as finely co-ordinated team
work as the winning of a big-league match. To do a
video broadcast also requires more men than are on a
ball team. The list includes the announcer, his spotter,
RADIO MIRROR
song interprelaLu
two cameramen, program director, audio engineer, two
video control technicians, a switch technician and a
transmitter supervisor. When doubleheaders are
played two crews are used, except for the announcer
and his spotter, because of the fatiguing concentration
required. The two television cameras that are used to
telecast a baseball game are located in a camera booth
hung from the upper tier behind home plate. In the
same booth are the announcer and his spotter. While
two cameras continuously follow the action of the
baseball game and catch different views, only one of
them is sent out over the air. The program director
decides which view is broadcast. He and his crew are
housed in a television control room under the stands.
In front of the director are two screens — one for each
camera. It is his task to decide instantly which view
is the better and order it transmitted.
NEWSREELS are proving to be extremely popular on
television; and why not — pictures of news and spe-
cial events reach the televiewer as quickly as th*e day
they occur. The Camel Newsreel Theater,.for example,
which is seen at 7:50 every week-day evening over
the NBC network— and the films are flown to other
video stations throughout the country — shows Fox-
Movietone newsreels days before they can be shown
DnniomV vm
it a> popnhu v,hh ilf audience u
" li ii'li" nine Mil -TV"! Bob Mi
caughf Injrriil II. , . nppean
in theaters. And the theaters are getting nervous.
Word comes from France that despite limited budg-
ets, television there is forging ahead. Radiodiffusion
Francais executive Jacques Armand told recently of
plans for a video station complete with a large swim-
ming pool to be used for underwater scenes!
Television courses have been given in Eastern col-
leges for several years — but only for the technical side
of the medium. However, North Texas Agricultural
College, at Arlington, Texas, will offer advanced
speech courses tailored to the television industry in
the Fall. (Continued on poae 79)
TELEVISION SECTION
Guest Vincent Lopez found that the girls who model on
Television Fashions mast have brains and acting ability.
Adelaide Hawley's Television Fashions on Pa-
rade script gets a friendly preview by Virginia
Pope, r., Fashion Editor of the New York Times.
THERE is no reason why the woman with a television
set should not be well dressed. Each Friday at 8:00,
Adelaide Hawley brings her a complete fashion show,
on Dumont's WABD.
That Adelaide Hawley is qualified to do that is proven
by the letters of praise that pour into the program each
week and by a quick glance at Miss Hawley's back-
ground— which includes more than ten years as a radio
commentator on things feminine, and ten years as an
editor and narrator for MGM's "News of the Day"
newsreel. All this experience made Adelaide the natural
choice when producer Leon Roth and director Raymond
Nelson wanted someone to coordinate and narrate their
Television Fashions on Parade.
However, Miss Hawley is quick to point out that no
amount of experience in other media prepared her for
the merry-go-round she rides each week. Of course
early in the week she meets with the department store
representatives and they go down to the wholesale mar-
ket to select the clothes for Friday's show. She some-
times has a little difficulty with said representatives
until she has proven to them what things televise well
and what would be completely lost on video. For in-
stance, Miss Hawley will select a string of pearls with a
rather large bead; the department store representative
will protest that the beads are too large to be really
smart. Miss Hawley will patiently explain that when the
tele cameras get through with them the pearls will just
be noticeable, and women will ask for the usual size
pearl when they come to buy. On broadcast (or telecast)
day, the models are called for 12 noon and are put
through three complete rehearsals. Since Television
Fashions on Parade is really a musical comedy with
clothes, rather than a fashion show with music, a great
deal of integration is needed among the story, music
and fashion groups. Miss Hawley is off in a booth to do
her commentary. She wears headphones so she can hear
the director's instructions and watches a television re-
ceiver so she can check that everything she is describ-
ing is actually being photographed at the same time.
That set-up is certainly one of the greatest tests of co-
ordination ever devised; but Miss Hawley is equal to it.
48
RADIO
MIRROR
HAPPY Felton has been making radio audiences laugh
for a good many years, but one glance at his gener-
ous 300-pound girth and jolly face proves that Happy
was built for television.
Producer Ray Harvey thought so, too, and when he
decided to put an audience participation show on video,
he got together with Happy Felton and cooked up School
Days which is now seen and heard on WABD every
Wednesday at 8:00 P.M. Participants are chosen from
the studio audience. Prizes go to the students with
the highest grades.
Producer Harvey doesn't believe that the stunt pro-
gram can be lifted right out of radio and put on tele-
vision as is. "It's one thing to see a man hit with a pie
way up on a stage or hear it over the radio; it's quite an-
other thing to see a man so treated right in your own
living room. It's my opinion that the video audience
participation show cannot go in for broad slapstick. The
medium is too intimate," declares Mr. Harvey.
On a participation show, contestants and m.c. share
in importance. Mr. Harvey is an expert at choosing par-
ticipants who will speak up in clear voices and will
be able to take a joke. The Master-of-Ceremonies
carries a burden in television that makes a similar radio
stint seem like play. Once the show begins, he is con-
stantly on camera, and completely on his own. In radio
he can be given. all manner of cues, directions, and even
have notes slipped to him. In video, however, the viewer
sees all the action there is.
Radio's famous "audience participant," Sadie Hertz,
made her television debnt as one of Happy's "students."
ELEVISION
SECTION
Iwfe;
Peter Grant, with WLW secretary Evelyn Wal-
ters, cheeks one of the newscasts which have
built his reputation for reliable reporting
wherever WLW is heard. His mother (r.)
enjoys Peter's broadcasts, but enjoys even more
a session with her son's colorful scrapbooks.
THERE'S a strong connection between a young man
from St. Louis named Melvin Maginn and WLW's ace
newscaster Peter Grant. In fact, you can trace Mel-
vin's career through its soda clerk, tree surgeon, bus
driver and law student phases right up to the radio-
announcing phase in which he became Peter Grant.
During the bus-driving days in St. Louis in 1924,
Melvin used to combine an informative sight-seeing
spiel with the maneuvering of his vehicle. One of his
passengers, much impressed, told him he ought to be
"on the radio." "I laughed and laughed," Peter says,
"because f knew I was going to be a lawyer." This was
the goal on which he kept his. eye all through George
Washington University and law school. He reached- it,
unfortunately, in 1930, when he graduated — right into
the middle of the recession. At that point, of necessity,
he took his eye off it and looked around for something
that would feed him. A bright friend urged him on to
Station KMOX, feeling that Peter's active undergrad-
uate background in amateur theatricals might qualify
him for radio acting. It did; gradually he did less acting
and more announcing, and in 1932 transferred to WLW
to become chief announcer. Except for four Army years
which took him to Hawaii and sent him back a Major,
Peter's been at WLW ever since, building in the midwest
his solid reputation for crisp, understandable news de-
livery. He has also announced major network programs,
Famous Jury Trials and the Red Skelton Show among
them.
Listeners approve of what Peter calls the "25%
British" in his diction. It's in character, for Peter is a
horse-and-dog man. He lives a comfortable bachelor
life with his father and mother, hunts with the Camargo
Hunt Club and has a closet full — naturally — of tweeds.
Portrait of a squire: WLW newscaster Peter Grant is a horse-and-hound, pipe-and-tweeds man
50
I. Financier Walter Stevens hires Ted Marshall
to kill a man named Victor Brown, and make the
murder look like suicide. Ted agrees on a price
of S2500 and asks no questions . . . but makes up
his mind to find out what Brown has on Stevens.
2. At local FBI field office Agents Grant and
Taylor begin a search for promoter Walter Jones,
who went bankrupt a year before, shortly after
his bookkeeper disappeared. Hikers have found
the bookkeeper's decomposing, murdered body.
wis is yotm
JERRY DE-
VINE pro-
duces This Is
Your FBI,
the dramatic
presentation
of cases from the Federal Bureau
of Investigation files. Here, as you
heard them on the air, are: Frank
Albertson as Stevens; Tony Bar-
rett as Ted; Woodrow Williams
as Victor Brown; Peggy Webber
as June; Stacy Harris as Taylor;
Ira Grossel as Grant; Rita Lynn
as the secretary. Listen Fridays
to ABC, 8:30 P.M. EDT.
*
5. Despondent and broke, Brown killed himself,
but Ted demands his half from Stevens because
no matter how the man died, Stevens' purpose
is accomplished. When the promoter refuses,
Ted threatens to make collection with a gun.
52
3. Ted and his girl June contact Victor Brown.
He is drinking heavily, confides he worked as
bookkeeper for Stevens when latter recently
promoted a stock issue. Ted glimpses Stevens'
"angle." decides to wait before killing Brown.
4. Ted accuses Stevens
of planning to go bank-
rapt and frame things
to look as though Brown,
guilty of misappropria-
tion, has killed himself.
Ted raises his fee to half
of Stevens' "take," goes
back to Brown . . .
and finds him dead.
6. Meanwhile, the vast FBI network has traced
Walter Jones to Walter Stevens. One of Stevens'
investors, Mr. Pine, calls to say he has a suicide
note from Victor Brown, containing explanation
and proof of Stevens' carefully arranged bankruptcy.
7. It's a big haul for the FBI. They get to Stevens'
apartment in time to hear Ted convict himself
of conspiracy in Stevens' affairs by trying to collect
what he claims is due bim. And June also is
asked to "come along, please," by the FBI men.
53
I. Finunrier Walter Stevens hires Ted Marshall
to kill a iniin named Victor Brown, and make the
murder look like suicide. Ted agrees on a price
of $2500 and asks no questions . . . hut makes up
bii mind to find nut what Brown has on Stevens.
2. At local FBI field office Agent, Grant
Taylor begin a search for promoter Walter J
who went bankrupt a year before, shortly f
his bookkeeper disappeared. Hikers have | !
imposing, murdered hud,
4. Ted accuses Stevens '
of planning to go bank- i
rupl and frame things
in look as though Brown, j
guilty of misappropria-
tion, has killed himself.
Ted ralXsl his fee to half
of Stevens' -take," goes '
back to Brown . . .
and finds him dead.
JERRY DE-
VINE pro-
W^B I duces This Is
■=" -' Your FBI,
the dramatic
presentation
of cases from the Federal Bureau
of Investigation files. Here, as you
heard them on the air, are: Frank
Albertson as Stevens; Tony Bar-
rett as Ted; Woodrow Williams
as Victor Brown; Peggy Webber
as June; Stacy Harris as Taylor;
Ira Grossel as Grant; Rita Lynn
as the secretary. Listen Fridays
to ABC, 8:30 P.M. EDT.
5. I).- s pond en r and broke. Brown killed
himself.
hai Ted demands bis half from Stevens
because
no manor how the man died, Stevens'
purpose
■ - accomplished. When the promoter
refu-e>.
red threatens m make collection with
:i pun.
Meanwhile, the vast FBI network ha* traced
liter Jones to Walter Stevens. One of Stevens'
investor*,, Mr. Pine, calls to say he han a suicide
note from Victor Brown, containing explanation
and proof of Stevens* carefully arranged bankruptcy.
7. It's a big haul for ihe FBI. Thry grt to 9tC
apartment in time to hear Ted convirt him-. Il
..I COOjpiraC) in Srev.-.i>' affair-, by trying to colled
what he claims is due him. And Jun>- iko i-
Qfked ti> "rumr along. plra*r," b] lh<- (Ml
rince Albert!
I J
^B
9
I ''
I ■
| E
| ;»'.'■■
•
Down to the Opry House in Nashville there's a party.
ONE evening back in 1925, a hole suddenly developed in
the program schedule of WSM, Nashville, and that's
when Grand Ole Opry was born. A production execu-
tive, called on "Uncle Jimmy" Thompson to fill the empty
time, and "Uncle Jimmy" fiddled so many telegrams and
phone calls into the studios from mountain music-hungry
listeners that WSM decided he was there to stay.
Companionable southerners didn't let Uncle Jimmy solo
for long. Pretty soon everyone who twanged a guitar, blew
on a jug or could handle a zither swarmed over to WSM
and offered to help out. Opry personnel expanded; now-
adays, it is made up of farmers and ranchers recruited from
the bayous, canebrakes and tobacco fields. Some are
L. to r.l Cumberland Valley Boya; at microphone. Red Foley, comic Rod Brasfield; more Valley
<fJ&Kis
if
jL-
«^L.*-v4iJ
urday nights — and Radio Mirror is taking you along
Rod Brasfield, dressed for Saturday night.
Commercials fall to Old Hickory Singers.
i
small shopkeepers. On Saturday nights they head for the
Opry House, transform themselves with outsize shoes,
flour-sack dresses and Uncle Sam beards, and trample out
before the Old Barn backdrop. Rehearsals are a matter of
inspiration; five minutes is all it takes to break in a new
member.
Grand Ole. Opry's national hook-up dates from 1938. To
accommodate the 4000 folks who come from near and far
to see it, an old tabernacle, the Ryman Auditorium, was
bought. What you hear on the air (NBC, Saturday nights
at 10:30 P.M. EDT) is only a fraction of the show. It
actually starts at 8, goes on till 12, with the stomping, sing-
ing audience very much a part of the proceedings.
" ffT3r I
*: "Gossip" Minnie Pearl, announcer Louis Back; Old Hickory Singers; director Jack Stapp.
./^
***■'*»>
U'
\X*
f\
t~i>
Minnie is really from Grinder's Switch.
Red ensembles with the Cumberland Boys.
Down to the Opry House in Nashville there's a party,
ONE evening back in 1925, a hole suddenly developed in
the program schedule of WSM, Nashville, and that's
when Grand Ole Opry 'was born. A production execu-
tive,, called on "Uncle Jimmy" Thompson to fill the empty
time, and "Uncle Jimmy" fiddled so many telegrams and
phone calls into the studios from mountain music-hungry
listeners that WSM decided he was there to stay.
Companionable southerners didn't let Uncle Jimmy solo
for long. Pretty soon everyone who twanged a guitar, blew
on a jug or could handle a zither swarmed over to WSM
and offered to help out. Opry personnel expanded; now-
adays, it is made up of farmers and ranchers recruited from
the bayous, canebrakes and tobacco fields. Some are
L. to r.i Curnlnrland Volley Boy.; at microphone Hot Foley.
jHodBrashrld; "<o"
turday nights — and Radio Mirror is taking you alon;
small shopkeepers. On Saturday nights they head for the
Opry House, transform themselves with outsize shoes,
Hour-sack dresses and Uncle Sam beards, and trample out
before the Old Barn backdrop. Rehearsals are a matter of
inspiration; five minutes is all it takes to break in a new
member.
Grand Ole. Opry's national hook-up dates from 1938. To
accommodate the 4000 folks who come from near and far
to see it, an old tabernacle, the Ryman Auditorium, was
bought. What you hear on the air (NBC, Saturday nights
at 10:30 P.M. EDT) is only a fraction of the show. It
actually starts at 8, goes on till 12, with the stomping, sing-
ing audience very much a part of the proceedings.
"Go«.lp" Minnie Poul, announcer Loui. Burl, Old Hickory Sincere: director Jock Stoop
Rod Brasfield, dressed for Saturday main.
Commercials fall to Old Hickory Singers,
The stone-paved old back stoop provides an excellent place
in the sun for Donald and his pretty wife Dorothy — for pur-
poses of painting, labeling or — very seldom— just resting.
WNON
0ome 4u*nmefi, *D<Ht<Ud *Da*iu
w:
Donald and Dorothy go to town — Nassai
rHEN city people go back to nature, they
are likely to do it on a full-time scale.
That was the ambition of Donald and
Dorothy Dame from the first time they laid
eyes on the beautiful farm home which they
purchased near Tanglewood, New York —
and they're busy living in that pattern now.
Of course, Donald Dame has a weekly
singing stint; he's the tenor star of the
American Album of Familiar Music, heard at
9:30, EDT on NBC, Sunday nights. But on
weekdays he's a farmer, heart and soul.
Donald and Dorothy — she was studying
voice when they met at the Berkshire Music
Festival — have been married eight years.
The farm is their home, but they have an
apartment in New York City for the worst
of the winter weather so that there'll be no
possibility of Donald's missing a program.
The Dames do most of the chores on the
farm themselves,, preserving and canning
their crops for the winter. They raise every-
thing suitable to the climate and soil of their
part of the country, and they have the usual
assortment of farm animals, too. (Donald
says that there's nothing like musical train-
ing to get you in shape for hog-calling!)
DONALD'S FARM
• do€& &U 4iK$CK$ CK t6e tout
• it is — for mail and for refreshment?
It's no joke to say that farm work
keeps Donald's nose to the grindstone.
Rest comes with evening — practice for Donald, crocheting
for Dorothy. A radiator hides in that decommissioned
stove so it won't spoil the farm's Early American flavor.
ft isn't all sowing and garnering.
Yon need a touch of the stonemason
and the plumber in you as well!
Petrh-and-carry is part of the
rural living scheme of thing;
57
'Mi.- alone-paved old back sloop provides an excellent pluce
in tin.' sun for Donald and his pretty wife Dorothy — for pur-
poses of painting, labeling or — very seldom — just resting.
WN OM
gome Accmmen.. T>on<xtd "D^u
DONALD'S FARM
ctoei &U AiH^ut^cH t6e tun
R.-si comes wiih evening— practice for Donald, crochollno,
lor Dorothy. A radiator hides in ihui decommissioned
stove s.. it w».n't spoil the farm's Early American flavor.
WHEN city people go back to nature, they
are likely to do it on a full-time scale.
That was the ambition of Donald and
Dorothy Dame from the first time they laid
eyes on the beautiful farm home which they
purchased near Tanglewood, New York—
and they're busy living in that pattern
Of course, Donald Dame has a weekly
singing stint; he's the tenor star of the
American Album of Familiar Music, heard at
9:30, EDT on NBC, Sunday nights. But on
weekdays he's a farmer, heart and soul
Donald and Dorothy — she was studying
voice when they met at the Berkshire Music
Festival — have been married eight years.
The farm is their home, but they have an
apartment in New York City for the worst
of the winter weather so that there'll be no
possibility of Donald's missing a program.
The Dames do most of the chores on the
farm themselves,, preserving and canning
their crops for the winter. They raise every-
thing suitable to the climate and soil of their
part of the country, and they have the usual
assortment of farm animals, too. (Donald
says that there's nothing like musical train-
ing to get you in shape for hog-calling"
II isn't nil Bowing and garnering.
Yon need n touch of the stonemason
and the plumber in you aa well!
joke to soy thai farm work
keeps Donald's nose to the grindstone.
I
S
1
M
¥
?
Jt
S
■
fcr.
*
*
*' j^Q-W _
&U>
*
ill
LONG cool drinks always hit the spot in hot weather. The
ones shown in the picture are all old-fashioned lemon-
ade. Try this little trick for making them colorful. Pour
any left-over juice from the maraschino cherries into a
freezing tray of the refrigerator. Freeze it until it is solid
ice. Do the same with grape juice — the result will be a deep
red-purple ice cube. Freeze leftover lemonade or limeade
for yellow and green cubes. Delicious chunks of orange ice
can be made by freezing fresh orange juice. Try it with
grapefruit, raspberry, strawberry or apple juice. These
fruit flavor combinations will make your lemonade look
and taste "out of this world."
Here are favorite summer coolers from my recipe file.
They will do double duty for any party or outdoor refresh-
ment this time of year. And I've suggested some new ways
to serve our old favorite ice cream. Included are a couple
of recipes for homemade ice cream, too. You can mix them
in the morning, go to the beach all day, come home and
find them ready to eat.
Old Fashioned Lemonade
6 lemons (about 1 cup juice)
Vn cud sugar
V2 cup hot water
3V2 cups cold water
Squeeze juice from lemons; strain if desired. Combine
sugar and hot water. Heat and stir until sugar is dissolvec1
Cool and add to lemon juice. Add the cold water. Add
more sugar if you like it sweeter. Pour over cracked ice
in a tall glass. Garnish with a few mint leaves if you have
some growing in the yard. Nice for garnish also, is a slice
of orange, lemon, fresh berries or a stick of fresh pine-
apple. Makes 6 tall glasses.
Iced Coffee
Prepare coffee making it twice as strong as usual. Pour
the hot coffee over cracked ice in tall glasses or over a
large piece of ice in a large pitcher. Serve it plain or with
cream, or whipped cream and sugar, or serve it black.
Left-over coffee may be frozen and used as ice cubes, if
you like your iced coffee strong.
All on a summer's day: old-
fashioned lemonade with a new idea
in each glass, and extra-
luscious banana splits. With such
cold comfort at hand, let the sun shine!
Iced Tea
Prepare strong tea, using 1% teaspoons of tea leaves for
each cup of water. Boil the water and pour it over the tea
leaves; allow to stand 5 minutes. Strain and discard the
leaves. Pour the hot tea over cracked ice in tall glasses.
Iced tea, cooled quickly, is clearer and more sparkling
than tea which is cooled slowly. Garnish each glass with a
slice of lemon or orange. Left-over iced tea may be frozen
into cubes and used in the iced tea instead of plain ice.
Fruit Fizzes
Combine an equal amount of fruit juice and gingerale or
soda water. Add sugar if necessary. Add the soda or gin-
gerale just before serving and pour over ice cubes.
Orange Milk Shake
2J/2 cups orange juice
1V2 cups grapefruit juice
1 cup evaporated milk
1 teaspoon salt
14 teaspoon almond extract
V4 cup sugar
Combine all ingredients and stir well. Chill; serve over
cracked ice in six tall glasses. (Continued on page 76)
Bv
KATE SMITH
1 ■:■-■•■ ■'■'■■■■■,/•.
RADIO
RADIO MIRROR FOOD COUNSELOR
Listen each Monday through Friday at 12 Noon
when Kate Smith Speaks, on the Mutual network
MIRROR FOR BETTER LIVING
59
When a girl marries
there are two faces to the
silver coin in her
n
M
60
slipper. One face is love;
the other may be tragedy
!tu<lio Mirror's Read-
er Bonus brings you,
for the first time in
story form, an im-
portant chapter from
When a Girl Marries,
just as it was first
heard on the air
(Mon.-Fri., 5 P.M.
EDTonNBCstations).
THE sun rose red and hot over the
fields of Beechwood. Scarcely a
breath of air stirred; the land was
still under its burden of heat. Even the
corn, waxing fat and rich in the Davis
field, stood with drooping leaves, look-
ing deceptively lifeless.
Inside the old white farmhouse, Lilly
applied the back of her hand to her
moist mahogany brow, and groaned
as she started up the stairs in search of
young Sammy.
"Lord save us," she muttered, "but
this is sure goin' to be a scorcher. I'm
most dead on my feet, and I ain't even
started yet. Burned my bread, broke a
dish, upset the coffee — and now that
boy don't come when I call him. If
that ain't enough things to make me
sure the evil spirits has taken over these
diggin's, my name ain't Lilly. Sammy I"
She raised her voice, calling.
Sammy's door was closed. There
wasn't a sound from within. "Sammy!"
Lilly called once more, and opened the
door.
Sammy was sitting on the floor, his
paint book before him. He turned upon
Lilly a look of elaborate surprise. "Did
you call me, Lilly?"
"Call you!" Lilly exploded. "I should
think I been callin' you! What you
doin', Sammy Davis, sittin' there on the
floor when you know it's breakfast
time — "
"I'm painting," said Sammy.
"I sees that," Lilly retorted. "But
how come you has lost interest in
breakfast? You come right downstairs
and get your cereal and cream — "
His shoulders moved uncertainly, but
he remained where he was. Lilly
started for him, and stopped as the tele-
phone rang downstairs. She groaned.
"Land sakes, now the phone's startin'
■'."■.
Reunion at Beechwood: Baby Hope and little Sammy with Harry Davis (played by John Raby) and Joan (played by Mary Jane Higby),
in—"
"Aren't you going to answer it,
Lilly?" asked Sammy hopefully.
'"Course," said Lilly, turning. "And
you make tracks for your breakfast — "
"I've got it, Lilly." Mother Davis'
voice floated up the stairs.
"All right, Mrs. Davis. See — " Lilly
said accusingly to Sammy, "you keep
me from my work and make your poor
grandma run to answer the phone on a
hot morning like this. Now, is you com-
ing or is you ain't?"
She reached for him, and he rose
slowly, his eyes fixed on her face. Lilly
gaped. "Sammy Davis!"
"I spilled it," Sammy explained.
"I sees you did. But what — " She
touched a plump brown fingertip to the
sticky mess on the rug. "That ain't plain
water paint, Sammy Davis. It's some-
thing you mixed up."
"I mixed some paint I found in the
barn with mine," said Sammy help-
fully. "I wanted it to stick. It spilled
under me. It was an accident, Lilly, an'
— an' you said accidents can happen."
"I ain't beliein' that," said Lilly.
"But you don't has to sit in it, does
you? Sammy Davis, sometimes I think
you is just a bad boy!"
Sammy's lips quivered, and Lilly felt
an answering contraction in her own
heart. "I didn't mean to, Lilly — on a
stack of Bibles."
Lilly caught her breath. Her arms
went around him, and now there was
paint not only on the floor and on
Sammy's pants, but on her clean apron
as well. She couldn't stand it, hearing
the little boy repeat the phrase he'd
picked up when he'd testified at his
father's trial. It wasn't right for a child
to have to remember a thing like that; it
just proved a saying her own momma
used to have about the big black bird
of trouble throwing his shadow before
and behind.
Lilly knew all about the black bird of
trouble. Seemed like, lately, he'd made
the Davis farm at Beechwood his regu-
lar roosting place. Holding little
Sammy tightly in her arms, Lilly let
her mind go back over the past few
months. First there had been Betty
MacDonald, Mr. Harry's secretary — the
whole mess of trouble had begun, Lilly
reminded herself, when that Betty had
fallen in love with Mr. Harry. She
was the wilful kind of girl who
wouldn't take no for an answer, and
she'd done her best to wreck the mar-
riage of Miss Joan and Mr. Harry and
ruin the lives of their best friends, too.
Why, Miss Joan had even packed up
her things and taken herself and little
Sammy back to her mother's place in
Stanwood!
Poor Irma Cameron, Miss Joan's best
friend who lived down the road a piece
— everything had been going fine in her
life, too, until Betty MacDonald ap-
peared on the scene. Seemed like
everything that woman touched turned
out terrible. Miss Irma was in love
with Steve Skidmore — had been for
goodness knows how long. And then
didn't Steve go and fall in love with
that MacDonald hussy, and didn't she
marry him, just so's she could be near
Mr. Harry! Miss Irma's heart was like
to break, Lilly recalled, shaking her
head dolefully.
Just about the only good thing Betty
MacDonald ever did was the very last
thing she did. She'd given her life for
young Sammy — snatched him from the
path of a truck, and been killed doing it.
For that one piece of goodness, Lilly
was grateful to her. She hugged
Sammy tighter, remembering.
Well, then, it looked like things were
going to settle down and be peaceable —
and then what happened? Just as if
Betty MacDonald's ghost had come back
from the grave to haunt them all, that's
what it seemed like — because didn't
her cousin Betty Scofield turn up in
Beechwood, and wasn't she the dead
spit and image of the first Betty, both
in her looks and in her heart! That
was right about the time Sammy's
sister, Hope, was born, and Miss Joan
in the hospital and all.
Good, kind Mr. Harry, always rerdy
to believe the best of everyone, always
willing to lend a hand to people, tried
to help Betty Scofield, who told him
she was in trouble. And what did he
get for his goodness? He got himself
charged with murdering her, that's
what! Lilly shuddered, remembering
that awful day when the police had
found Betty, strangled, in the Davises'
barn, and the worse days that followed,
when Mr. Harry was on trial for his
life.
Finally, Steve Skidmore had con-
fessed to the murder, in time to save
Mr. Harry. But not in time to keep
Miss Joan from risking her life. Trying
to help Mr. Harry, she'd tracked down
a man Betty had known, and that man,
hoping to keep Miss Joan from making
public the things she'd found out about
him, had kidnapped her. The car in
which he was taking her away had
been in an accident, and Miss Joan had
landed up in the hospital again.
If there wasn't a potful of trouble
for you, Lilly wanted to know what you
did call trouble. But now things were
straightening out, at least a little, and
Lilly had her fingers tightly crossed.
Mr. Harry was safe, free of the murder
61
"I GIVE MY TROTH"
charges. But Miss Joan was still in the
hospital. And their friends Irma Cam-
eron and Steve Skidmore were in prison
— Mr. Skidmore, who had confessed to
the murder, and Mrs. Cameron who was
being held as a material witness, be-
cause she had shielded him. That left
just old Lilly and Mr. Harry's mother
to watch and worry and take care of
Sammy and baby Hope at the farm.
Once again, Lilly shook her head,
muttering, and Sammy stirred in her
arms. "What did you say, Lilly?" he
wanted to know.
"I said—" Lilly gave herself a little
shake— "I said you're going straight
into the bathtub and you ain't goin' to
move until Lilly gets some turpentine
and sees how she can clean up this
xxiess — "
"Lilly!" Mother Davis' voice sang out.
"Yes'm— " Hastily, Lilly popped
Sammy into the bathtub, started down
the stairs. Mother Davis met her half-
way. The older woman's face was white,
radiant; she trembled with excitement.
"Lilly, she's all right! She just talked
to me herself! Her injury wasn't
serious — it was mostly shock after being
carried off by that awful Nobel man."
"Not Miss Joan!" Lilly gasped. "Not
my Miss Davis-honey! Oh, praise the
Lord — "
"And, Lilly, she's coming home! Dr.
Wiggan's letting her go to her mother's
house this afternoon, and tomorrow
she'll be coming home to us!"
"I can't believe it." Lilly crossed her
hands on her breast, prayerfully. "Oh,
Lord, thank You — things will be just
what they used to be. We'll be goin' on
picnics down by the brook, and we'll be
goin' down the road to — " She stopped.
She had almost said, "We'll be goin'
down the road to Mrs. Cameron's farm."
But they wouldn't, like as not. Her eyes
met Mother Davis' eyes, and the two
faces, the plump brown one and the
lined white one, became grave. No,
things wouldn't be the same, not with
Joan's dearest friends paying for the
grim tragedy that had taken place in the
barn. That's what would hurt her most.
She would never pass the Cameron's
without feeling it. . . .
"We'll have to do all we can to help
her." said Mother Davis, as if they had
exchanged their thoughts aloud. Lilly
nodded.
"I got to start cleaning," she said
briskly. "If Miss Davis-honey's coming
home tomorrow, I got to have every-
thing just as perfect as it can be."
In the Stanwood hospital, Joan re-
turned to her room on Dr. Wiggan's arm.
She was the healthiest looking patient
he'd ever seen, the doctor thought; her
cheeks were pink and her eyes were
bright, fairly dancing with happiness.
"Thank you, Dr. Wiggan," she was
saying, "for letting me telephone. Thank
you for taking such good care of me
and for letting me go home. Thank
you — " At the door of her room she
stopped short. "Where's Harry? He
was here just a minute ago — "
A pretty little student nurse came up
to them. "Oh, Dr. Wiggan, a policeman
called Mr. Davis into that room where
they've got Mr. Nobel — " And then
Harry himself came down the corridor.
Joan couldn't read his expression, ex-
cept that it was tense with barely con-
M trolled excitement.
"I called home, Harry," she said, "and
told your mother the good news. And
62
Dr. Wiggan says that I can leave the
minute you're ready to take me — "
"Good," said Harry. "I've good news
for you, too. Dr. Wiggan, I'd like to
talk with her alone, if you don't mind.
You'll hear all about it later."
"Go ahead," the doctor smiled. "Only
take it easy. Remember, this girl's had
some shocks — "
"This one will do her good," Harry
promised. The doctor left, and Harry
led Joan to the deep chair near the win-
dow, drew another chair up for himself.
"Joan, dear, it's about Steve and
Irma — "
"Oh, Harry," said Joan bleakly. "I
Mother Davis (Marian Barney).
forgot about them in our own happi-
ness. What are we going to do for
them?"
"Take them home," said Harry.
"Take them home? How can we,
when — when Steve — "
"Steve didn't kill Betty, Joan."
"Didn't kill her!" But she believed it
instantly. If she had been asked, back
in the terrible days when Harry had
been on trial, if Steve had killed Betty
Scofield, she would have answered yes.
Reason would not have let her do other-
wise. Steve had been on the scene at
the time. Sick in body and mind, he
had confused Betty Scofield with his
dead wife, Betty, and when Betty had
laughed at him, he had leaped at her
. . . and had run to Irma Cameron, bab-
bling madly that he had just killed his
wife in Harry Davis' barn. But all the
while — yes, all the while Joan had been
begging Irma to surrender Steve, to
bring him out of hiding and persuade
him to give himself up — she had found
it difficult in her heart to believe that
Steve Skidmore could kill anyone. She
had believed it at all only on the
grounds that Steve was out of his mind
and that his wife Betty had made his
life a living hell.
"Steve didn't kill her," she repeated.
"Then who — "
"Robert Nobel," said Harry, hating to
mention the name. "That's what they
called me out to tell me. He's just fin-
ished his confession."
"But it's impossible," said Joan.
"Steve said that he had — "
"It's one of those things you hear of
once in a lifetime," said Harry. "Robert
Nobel had followed Betty to Beechwood
because he felt she had come to me to
squeal about his stolen-car racket.
She'd been delivering his cars for him —
that's how she happened to be picked up
in one. He was hiding behind the barn
when Steve struck her — she fell to the
ground — and Nobel finished the job.
Joan — " He put his hands on her
shoulders, steadying her. She was
trembling suddenly, and very pale.
"He would have done the same to
me," she whispered. "I know it now."
"Darling, you've got to forget all
that—"
She shook her head blankly. "He
would have, Harry. He killed his part-
ner, you know — upstairs in that old
house he used for an office. And I was
right downstairs all the time — "
"Darling, I do know," said Harry
gently. "We found the man when we-
were searching for you. And that's why
Nobel confessed to killing Betty. He
knew that they'd get him for the mur-
der of his partner. Anyway, he's put
away for good, now."
Slowly Joan returned to the present,
and the color came back to her cheeks.
"Does Steve know?" she asked.
"No, dear. He wasn't expected to live,
you know." He went on quickly, "But
the Lieutenant of Police spoke to the
prison hospital just a few minutes ago,
and there's a good chance that he'll get
well."
"He's got to," Joan breathed.
"I'll say he has," Harry agreed, "be-
cause the authorities are going to let
you tell him he's a free man — that is, if
you want to."
"If I want to! Oh, Harry, more than
anything else. Nothing — now you're
safe — would make me happier. Why
are you looking at me like that?"
For a moment he couldn't speak,
couldn't put all he felt into words. He
himself held nothing against Steve and
Irma for the part they had played in
tangling his life, but Joan was different.
She had suffered more than anyone, and
at a time when she was still weak and
tired after Hope's birth. Besides, it
was always easier to forgive an injury
to oneself than an injury to a loved one.
No, if it had been Joan who'd sat in
prison while Steve refused to give him-
self up and Irma refused to reveal his
whereabouts. . . .
"Because," he said huskily, and took
her hand and touched it to his lips,
"even if you weren't my wife, even if I
didn't love you so much I can't say it —
I'd still think you were the most won-
derful person in the world."
There was a celebration at the Field's
that night. It was a small celebration —
just Mrs. Field and Joan's gay and
lively younger sister, Sylvia, and Phil
Stanley, who had accompanied Harry
on the frantic search following Joan's
kidnapping, and Harry and Joan — but
it was a miracle to Joan. Moonlight
flooded the terrace outside the dining
room of the lovely old house on the
Ridge; fragments of dance music drifted
up from the country club down the
road, the flowers and the silver and
the linen, and Nettie stepping softly
about, serving — all of these things were
marvelous after the weeks of seeing
Harry in prison, the torment of his trial,
the ugliness of her own recent ex-
perience with Robert Nobel.
She touched Harry's hand, her eyes
glowing and blue as the mound of corn-
flowers on the center of the table.
"You know," she said to all of them,
"I'm so happy that I — I feel as though
I'm going to explode."
"Please don't," begged Phil, "you're
much too attractive as you are."
"I GIVE MY TROTH"
"Besides," Sylvia chimed in, "we've
just got you back all in one piece,
haven't we, Mama?"
Mrs. Field's normally petulant mouth
thinned disapprovingly. She had never
forgiven Joan for turning down Phil
Stanley, whose own big house stood
next door to the Fields', for an up-
from-nothing nobody like Harry Davis.
And although in her heart she wanted
Joan's happiness as much as her own,
she couldn't help feeling that life would
be more rewarding if only, just once,
her own dire predictions in regard to
Harry Davis would come true.
"As I see it, Sylvia," she reproved her
daughter, "I'd rather not joke about the
thing that happened to Joan."
"Mrs. Field's very right," said Harry.
"It's too close an incident, and too ter-
rifying."
"Thank you, Harry," said Joan's
mother with dignity.
"I'm guilty," Phil pleaded. "I'm
afraid I started all this line of talk. But
I was carried away — it's something to
see the two beautiful and popular Field
girls together again."
Joan glanced at Harry. He was
laughing; he looked happy and at ease
— but did this kind of talk still make
rr'm feel shut out, a little bit? He hadn't
been one of the fortunate lads who had
beaued the Field girls about in their
fortunate days, who had called to take
them dancing at the country club, who'd
come to parties at the house. In fact, in
those days Harry had been at the house
only once — and that was when he'd
come to ask her father for a job in his
law office, and had blundered into the
party celebrating Joan's engagement
to Phil. That was the night, too, when
she'd known she could never marry
Phil, dear as he was to her, could never
marry anyone but Harry Davis.
"I'm afraid," she said, "that it's Syl
who takes the honors for popularity at
this point. I'm just a very contented
wife with two children, a handsome
husband she's very much in love with,
and the most beautiful farm in this
whole, wide world."
Mrs. Field suddenly looked a little
deaf. Sylvia laughingly protested:
"I'm not anything near the butterfly
you insinuate, am I. Phil?"
"Well — " said Phil dubiously, and
everyone, even Mrs. Field, laughed.
"Oh, you meanie," mourned Sylvia.
"Haven't I a friend in the world?"
Joan laughed. "You most certainly
have, darling," she said pointedly.
"And no one," said her mother,
"knows that better than I with the tele-
phone ringing every minute of the day."
Sylvia pouted. "I think you're all
terrible to pick on a poor lonely girl
when her husband isn't here to defend
her. I'll have you know that I, too, am
a devoted wife and mother."
"We all know it, Sylvia," Phil con-
soled her. "The trouble is, you don't
look it in the least."
In all of a lifetime, Joan thought,
there were few moments as perfect as
this. She was with Harry and her
family and her dear friend, Phil; in the
calendar of the future there were only
two notations, and those happy ones —
going home to Sammy and Hope and
Lilly, and going to see Irma and Steve.
There was at the moment nothing more
to wish for, nothing more to be desired.
"You know what I'd like," she said
dreamily, looking out at the moonlit
terrace, "I'd like coffee on the terrace."
Sylvia shot a glance at Phil, and
clapped her hands delightedly. "It's
exactly what we planned, isn't it,
Mama?"
Mrs. Field nodded, but could not re-
frain from adding, "Only if Joan is sure
she isn't overdoing."
"I never felt better in my life," Joan
assured her. "Come on, Harry."
They strolled out to the terrace. Mrs.
Field remained behind to speak to
Nettie. Sylvia and Phil paused just
inside the dining room door, whispering
and laughing under their breath.
"Now what are you two up to?" Joan
called. "Aren't you going to have your
coffee?"
"In a minute," Sylvia answered.
"We'll be right back." And she dis-
appeared with Phil into another part
of the house.
"What do you suppose — ?" Harry be-
gan. Joan's hand closed upon his, car-
ried it to her cheek for an instant.
"I don't know," she said. "At this
moment I don't know anything but that
I'm sitting right here beside you, that I
can reach out and touch you any time
I want to, that there won't be any more
days of going to Summerville and just
seeing you for a few minutes and then
having to face the awful emptiness of
going home alone. . . . It's awful to be
so much in love with your husband."
"It would be awful for me if you
weren't," he said soberly.
"Do you suppose we'll always be this
way?" she asked, and he said severely,
"You'd better not change, young lady."
"It would be nice if I didn't," said
Joan. "I mean, Harry, think how ter-
Irma (Jeanette Dowling).
rible it will be when I get old and de-
crepit and constantly lose my eye-
glasses— "
"But think what you'll have to put
up with in me," he teased. "I'll have
gout, which will mean canes and irrita-
bility. I'll probably be as bald as a
billiard ball — "
She reached up and touched his hair-
line. Her voice was very tender.
"Dearest — you'll look very cute with a
shiny bald head."
"And you," said Harry, keeping his
own voice light with difficulty, "will
have to take to carrying an out-size
powder puff to keep it from shining like
that moon up there. We're going to be
a beautiful pair of ruins, my dear."
"Just," she said with a catch in her
breath, "so that we're ruins together,
my dear. Oh, my darling — "
They heard her mother and Nettie in
the background; Harry glanced quickly
around before leaning over to kiss her.
"I feel wicked, kissing you under the
moon," he said. "Like a school boy.
One more before your ma gets here — "
It began as a light kiss, a romantic
kiss, compounded of moonlight and
summer and the music from the or-
chestra at the country club and the
honeysuckle at the terrace's edge. Then
suddenly Joan was aware that the
pounding of her own heart had shut
out everything else; she moved her
head a fraction of an inch, spoke with
her lips almost upon his.
"My darling — do you realize how long
we've been separated?"
"Do I realize! Joan—"
"Put the service here, please, Nettie,"
said Mrs. Field, coming through the
double doors. Joan and Harry sat back
as if hands had reached out and parted
them. Mrs. Field glanced at them, said
irritably, "Now where in the world are
Sylvia and Phil? Where do you sup-
pose they could have gone?"
"They're up to some sort of foolish-
ness, you can bet your boots on that."
Joan glanced at Harry, and was seized
with an impulse to giggle at the false
heartiness in his voice. She herself
didn't try to speak, not when her heart
was still pounding away out of control.
Then she heard smothered laughter
from within the house, and Sylvia and
Phil joined them, the stamp of con-
spiracy upon them, trying very hard
to appear casual and natural.
"Sylvia," her mother complained, "I
hope this isn't one of your practical
jokes. I'm not in any condition to be
frightened or anything like that to-
night."
"Mama — " Sylvia patted her shoul-
der— "you've been an angel. You
haven't a thing to worry about." But
in spite of herself, she giggled.
"What are you up to?" asked Joan,
and Harry said, sounding suddenly like
a lawyer, "You're a little too quiet to
suit me, Phil."
"I am not," said Phil with dignity.
Sylvia giggled again, clapped a hand
over her mouth. "Listen!"
The music at the club had stopped.
Now it started again a little louder so
that the strains reached them clearly
and true.
"For the love of Pete," said Harry
softly, and Joan straightened.
"Oh, Harry — I Adore You. It's our
song, the one you wrote for me."
"We got Davie Burt over at the club
to play it for you," Sylvia explained in
a stage whisper. "Not that he minded.
It's a beautiful song."
Mrs. Field sighed with relief. "Thank
heaven! At least it doesn't scare one
out of a year's growth."
"How about it. Joan?" said Phil softly.
"It's a perfect setting. Moonlight and
honeysuckle — "
"I can't," said Joan. "I can't sing it
now." It was wonder enough that she
could speak, so swollen was her heart
with a happiness that was almost pain.
"I wish you could," said Harry, and
she found that she had a voice after all.
She lifted her head; the words that
were written forever upon her heart
poured out on the melody whole and
true and haunting.
Watching his wife. Harry was con- m
scious of a constriction in his chest, a
sudden, almost fear- (Cont'd onpage 70)
63
64
AH Times Below Are EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
For Correct CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME. Subtract One Hour
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Earl Wild
Carolina Calling
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story to Order
Words and Music
People's Church
Tone Tapestries
White Rabbit Line
News
E. Power Biggs
Trinity Choir of
St. Paul's Chapel
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Bible Highlights
Voices Down The
Wind
Radio Bible Class
Voice of Prophecy
Message of Israel
Southernaires
Church of the Air
Church of the Air
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
News Highlights
Solitaire Time
Christian Reform '
Church
Reviewing Stand
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Howard K. Smith
As Others See Us
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12:00
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12:15
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12:45
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1:00
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1:15
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1:30
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1:45
2:00
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2:15
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the World
2:30
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2:45
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Elmo Roper
3:00
Eddy Howard
Ernie Lee's Omega
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3:15
Show
The Almanac
Orch.
3:30
One Man's Family
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3:45
4:00
The Quiz Kids
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4:15
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4:30
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4:45
Living— 1948
5:00
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5:15
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5:30
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5:45
Tick?
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
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The Catholic Hour
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Those Websters
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freshes on the Air
7:00
7:15
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Band Wagon
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1 Love Adventure
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8:00
8:15
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Robert Shaw's
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9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Manhattan Merry-
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American Album
Meet Me at Parky's
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Walter Winchell
Louella Parsons
Catch Me If You Can
Strike It Rich
10:00
10:15
10:30
Take It or Leave It
Horace Heidt
Voice of Strings
Latin American
Serenade
Jimmie Fidler
Shorty Bell with
Mickey Rooney
Escape
S -who always looks
as well a* she listens when she in-
terviews her ABC luncheon celehrities.
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
FRANKIE CARLE~whose program,
Carle Comes Calling, is sumr>er listen-
ing on CBS, Sundays at 5:30 P.M., EDT,
began to lead a dance band when he
was only fifteen. He pla> „d next with
Mai Hallett, then with Horace Heidt;
then started an orchestra of his own.
He has made many recordings, the
latest of which is a composition of
his own, "I Don't Want to Meet Any
More People— I'm Satisfied With You!"
K*X
1»jB ■[■
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in New
York
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Hilltop House
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Kate's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
U. S. Navy Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Double or Nothing
The Story of Holly
Sloan
Light of the World
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Service Band
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Queen For A Day
Martin Block Show
Red Hook 31
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Adventure Parade
Superman
Tom Mix
Welcome Travelers Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Treasury Band Show
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
Double or Nothing
House Party
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
Robert Q. Lewis
Treasury Bandstand
Lum V Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
10:00
10:15
10:30
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
H. V. Kaltenborn
Cavalcade of America
Voice of Firestone
Telephone Hour
Dr. I. Q.
Contented Program
Fred Waring
Local Programs
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
The Falcon
Charlie Chan
Billy Rose
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Quiet Please
Fishing and Hunting
Club
Dance Orch.
Local Programs
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
The Lone Ranger
Sound Off
Stars in the Night
Tomorrow's Tops
Sammy Kaye
Arthur Gaeth
Earl Godwin
Eric Sevareid
In My Opinion
The Chicagoans
Lowell Thomas
Beulah
Jack Smith
Inner Sanctum
Talent Scouts
Lux Radio Theater
My Friend Irma
Screen Guild Players
DOROTHY KIRSTEN^the Metropol-
ian Opera soprano who shares the
spotlight with Nelson Eddy on the sum-
mer Music Hall, NBC, Thursdays at
9:(m,vP.M., EDT. During the past sea-
son, when these operas were revived
at the Metropolitan and in San Fran-
cisco, she sang with great success the
roles in "Louise" and in "The Love
of Three Kings" which had long been
favorites of her mentor, Grace Moore.
1
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine Of The Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Hilltop House
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Kate's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst. in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
News
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Club Time
Music For You
Hilltop House
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This is Nora Drake
Kate's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Maione
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Art Van Damme
Quartet
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Story of Holly Sloan
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Martin Block Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Double or Nothing
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Superman
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Robert Q. Lewis
Treasury Bandstand
Lum V Abner
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Marine Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
NBC Concert Orch.
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. IValone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Story of Holly
Sloan
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
The Martin Block
Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom •
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Double or Nothing
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
The Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Superman
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Robert Q. Lewis
Treasury Bandstand
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
8:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Talks
The Chicagoans
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Adrian Rollini Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Dennis Day
Special Agent
High Adventure
Billy Rose
Mayor of The Town
On Stage America
American Melody
Hour
Dr. Christian
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Tex and Jinx
Mr. District Attorney
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Racket Smashers
Abbott and Costello
Go For the House
Your Song and Mine
Harvest of Stars
with James Melton
10:00
10:15
10:30
The Big Story
Rexall Summer
Theater
Opinion-Aire
California Melodies
Comedy Writers
Show
Gordon MacRae
The Whistler
Capitol Cloak Room
6:00
John MacVane
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Frontiers of Science
6:30
Local Programs
The Chicagoans
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Alvin Heifer
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith
7:30
Lennie Herman
Quintet
News
Green Hornet Drama
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
8:00
Dinah Shore, Harry
James and Johnny
Mysterious Traveler
Youth Asks the
Government
Big Town
8:15
Mercer
Edwin D. Cantham
8:30
Carmen Cavallaro
Officio! Detective
America's Town
Mr. and Mrs. North
8:55
Billy Rose
Meeting of the Air
9:00
Adventures of the
Gabriel Heatter
We, The People
9:15
Thin Man
Radio Newsreel
Berkshire Music
9:30
Call the Police
Gregory Hood
Festival
9:45
10:00
Meet Corliss Archer
Public Defender
Let Freedom Ring
Studio One
10:15
10:30
Red Skelton
Dance Orchestra
It's In The Family
SANTOS ORTEGA —whom you have
heard variously as Charlie Chan, Nero
Wolfe, Perry Mason, Bulldog Drum-
mond, Inspector Queen and Commis-
sioner Weston, has now added Roger
Kilgore, Public Defender, to his gallery
of criminologists and is heard on MBS's
program of that name, Tuesday nights
at 10:30, EDT. New York-born Ortega
had to fake a Latin accent to get his
first radio role, twelve years ago.
65
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Dorothy Kilgallen
Music for You
Hilltop House
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Katie's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
DORIS McWHIRT— was eight when
she first broadcast, down in Oklahoma.
At fourteen, she understudied Luise
Rainer in the Washington, D. C, Civic
Theatre's production of "St. Joan."
Now, twenty-two, a veteran of many
daytime serials and evening dramatic
programs, she's heard on True Detective
Mysteries, over Mutual, Sundays at
4:30 P.M., EDT, and proves she's still
Texan by wearing high-heeled boots!
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Art Van Damme
Quartet
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Story of Holly* Sloan
Light of the World
Queen for a Day
Martin Block Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Double or Nothing
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When a Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Superman
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Robert Q. Lewis
Treasury Bandstand
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Of Men and Books
6:30
Local Program
Local Programs
The Chicagoans
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Alvin Heifer
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith
7:30
Lawrence Week
News
Henry Morgan Show
7:45
Inside of Sports
8:00
Lucky Partners
Front Page
The F.B.I, in Peace
8:15
and War
8:30
Local Programs
Talent Hunt
Criminal Casebook
Mr. Keen
8:55
Billy Rose
9:00
Nelson Eddy-Dorothy
Gabriel Heatter
Willie Piper
Dick Haymes
9:15
Kirsten
Radio Newsreel
9:30
Jack Carson and
Revere Revue
Candid Microphone
Crime Photographer
9:45
Eve Arden
Background For
Stardom
10:00
Bob Hawk Show
Family Theatre
Boxing Bouts
Reader's Digest
10:15
Radio Edition
10:30
The First Nighter
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
The Listening Post
Music for You
Hilltop House
David Harum
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
Katie's Daughter
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst. in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Campus Salute
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
U. S. Marine Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Story of Holly Sloan
Light of the World
Queen for a Day
Martin Block Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Double or Nothing
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Superman
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Robert Q. Lewis
Treasury Bandstand
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
66
FLETCHER MARKLE— is producer,
director and frequently a featured actor
on CBS's Studio One series, Tuesdays
at 10:00 P.M., EDT. This twenty-seven-
year-old Canadian has recently been
spending his spare evenings and week-
ends directing his first American movie,
"The Vicious Circle," starring Fran-
chot Tone. His initial American radio
work was three scripts for Columbia
Workshop, two of which he directed.
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
News
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Report from the
United Nations
Songs By Jean
McKenna
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Mary Osborn Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith
8:00
7:15
8:30
8:55
Cities Service Band
of America
Can You Top This
There's Always A
Woman
Leave It to the Girls
Billy Rose
The Fat Man
This Is Your FBI
Mr. Ace and Jane
Danny Thomas
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
People Are Funny
Waltz Time
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Break the Bank
The Sheriff
Morgan, Ameche,
Langford
Adventures of Ozzie
and Harriet
10:00
10:15
10:30
Mystery Theater
Sports
Meet the Press
Tex Beneke
Boxing Bouts
Everybody Wins,
Phil Baker
Spotlight Revue
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story Shop
Mind Your Manners
Robert Hurleigti
Practical Gardner
Shoppers Special
CBS News of America
Renfro Valley Folks
Garden Gate
Washington Wives
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Frank Merriwell
Archie Andrews
Bill Harrington
Ozark Valley Folks
This Is For You
Johnny Thompson
Ho lywood Headlines
Saturday Strings
Red Barber's Club-
house
Mary Lee Taylor
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
Meet the Meeks
Smilin' Ed McConnell
Movie Matinee
Teen Timer's Club
Abbott and Costello
Land of the Lost
Let's Pretend
Junior Miss
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Arthur Barriault
Public Affairs
Coffee With Congress
Misc. Programs
This Week in Wash-
ington
Pro Arte Quartet
Junior Junction
American Farmer
Theatre of Today
Stars Over Hollywood
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Nat'l Farm Home
Edmond Tomlinson
Report From Europe
Alan Lomas
Dance On h
Maggi McNellis,
Herb Sheldon
Speaking of Songs
Grand Central Sta.
County Fair
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Music For The
Moment
Salute to Veterans
Bands For Bonds
Fascinating Rhythm
Hitching Post Variety
Give and Take
Country Journal
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Local Programs
Dance Orch.
Sports Parade
Piano Playhouse
ABC Symphony
Orch.
Report from Overseas
Adventures in
Science
Cross-Section U.S.A.
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Doctors Today
First Piano Quartet
Horse Race
Charles Slocum
First Church of
Christ Science
Racing
Stan Dougherty
Presents
Make Way For
Youth
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
Swanee River Boys
Lassie Show
Dr. 1. Q. Jr.
King Cole Trio
Take A Number
True or False
Treasury Band Show
Melodies to Remem-
ber
Dorothy Guklheim
Local Programs
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Peter Roberts
Art of Living
NBC Symphony
Dance Orchestra
Vagabonds' Quartet
Profits of Prayer
Harry Wismer
Jack Beall
News from Wash-
ington
In My Opinion
Red Barber Sports
Show
Larry Lesueur
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Curtain Time
Hawaii Calls
What's the Name of
That Song
Challenge of the
Yukon
Famous Jury Trials
Abe Burrows
Hoagy Carmichael
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:45
Life of Riley
Truth or Conse-
quences
Twenty Questions
Stop Me If You've
Heard This One
Ross Dolan,
Detective
The Amazing Mr.
Malone
Local Programs
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Your Hit Parade
Judy Canova Show
Keeping Up With
the Kids
Lionel Hampton
Gangsters
What's My Name
Joan Davis Time
Vaughn Monroe
10:00
10:15
10:30
Radio City Playhouse
Grand Ole Opry
Theater of the Air
Professor Quiz
Hayloft Hoedown
Saturday Night
Serenade
It Pays To Be
Ignorant
HOUSE JAMESON— transferred to Co-
lumbia from University of Texas to
be nearer the stage. After appearing in
several Broadway successes and in stock,
in Toronto, he tried radio, as an an-
nouncer, in 1934. His first real radio
success was as Renfrew, in Renfrew of
the Mounted, but he's best known as Mr.
Aldrich, heard with his Family, over
NBC, Thursday evenings at 8:00, EDT.
Philco 472: built-in AM-FM.
ANOTHER in the
new group of
table-models is
Philco Model 472. It's
a moderately -priced
set in a streamlined
plastic cabinet and
comes in either brown
or ivory. Approximate
dimensions are 10"
x 16" x 8". Of interest,
too, is the built-in dual
AM-FM aerial system.
When talk gets around to small radios it must, of
necessity, get around to the new "Personal" line of
receivers built by RCA Victor. It's a battery-operated
portable that weighs only three and a half pounds, and
features a lid switch which automatically turns the
radio on when the lid is opened. It's small enough to
fit in a pocket, measuring only 3x/4" x 4%" x 6V4". This
set retails for about $33 and comes in red, brown, black
and ivory.
Tele-tone: 26 sq.in. image, all-channel tuning.
And still the price of television sets keeps going down.
Tele-tone boasts of a set tagged at only $149.95. The
screen furnishes an image of 26 square inches and the
set is in a genuine mahogany cabinet. This set, by the
way, does include All Channel tuning. You can pick up
telecasts from all stations in your area. For the record,
it's Model 149.
Since there's plenty of vacation weather ahead, you
may be looking for a portable radio that will give you
reception no matter where you go. A good suggestion
would be to look over the Crosley model 9-302. It's a
three-way set that will operate in AC or DC current
as well as on batteries. This portable comes in an
alligator-grain brown leatherette case with metal trim.
Another portable us-
ing alligator grain is
the RCA Victor model
8BX5. Contrasting ef-
fect is obtained by
balancing the simu-
lated leather with ma-
roon plastic. This set
is also three-way —
Battery, AC and DC.
RCA 8BX5: battery, AC and DC.
Some lives reach beauty in one spectacular moment; some build to-
ward it slowly, making a pattern of happiness out of every-day things
THE DAY-TO-DAY THINGS
RADIO MIRROR'S BEST LETTER OF
THE MONTH
DEAR PAPA DAVID:
When a neighbor, a housewife
and mother whose child was in
kindergarten with mine, shot and killed
herself and her two children, I thought
there was no virtue left in life. The
news of her tragedy raised ugly fears
and suspicions in millions of people.
Because' she and her husband were
of different religious faiths, members
of each group looked at the other and
thought, "It was because of the re-
ligion." Husbands, reading of it in the
paper, looked at their own wives with
a new dread: "Might she do it, too, if
things got tough?"
But what we mothers feared most
was what it would do to the children.
With the radio, the headlines, and the
village talk, it was impossible for them
not to know. Would their tender faces
wear a new and fearful gravity? Would
their baby eyes show terror? Had they
felt that gun, pointed at their heads?
Did they see their baby sisters, lifeless
in the bassinette? Over the week-end,
the burden of it was cruel.
I waited with the other mothers,
Monday noon, outside the kindergarten,
where she had waited with us only last
week. At last the children came in
their bright snowsuits — not tumbling
noisily, as usual, but in an orderly line.
One by one, they joined the mothers,
quietly, obediently. "Oh God," I prayed,
"let them shout! Let them push and
shove! Let them show that they trust
us!"
My girl could not wait to step into
the car before she told me solemnly,
"Joey is dead. He has gone to live
with God." She waited for my comment.
"Oh," I said. I knew very well that
the children knew what Joey's mother
had done. She didn't want to tell me
that she knew. She was accusing me,
silently.
With trembling hands, I set the car
in motion. My girl was still, ominously
still, it seemed to me, withdrawn into
herself. Some thought lay deep in her
little mind, troubling her. We were
almost home when she said with dig-
nity, "I can't tell you something,
Mommy."
My heart took a frantic leap. As she
resumed her silence, her rosy little
lips twitched. Would she burst into
tears — show a grief which I could com-
fort? But suddenly, to my utter aston-
ishment, instead of crying, she was
laughing.
"It's a secret what we made today!"
she declared with her usual shrill en-
thusiasm. "You can guess, but I can't
tell! We made — we made — " Her blue
eyes sparkled with the excitement of
trying to keep a secret, but it was im-
possible. "We made Valentines for our
mothers!"
It isn't safe to drive with tear-filled
eyes, so I stopped the car while I
hugged her. Our children still loved
and trusted us!
Of course, I knew that their faith
had remained perfect because they had
not wholly understood the awfulness
of the crime. Holding my warm and
squirming child, I thought: Because
each of us is, in a sense, a little child,
unable to comprehend everything, we
are able to turn our thoughts from
sorrow, to go on loving and believing
in one another, to do the day-to-day
things that make life beautiful. One
of the wonders (Continued on page 74)
Life Can Be Beautiful, written by Carl Bixby and Don Becker, is heard Mon. — Fri. at
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70
I Give My Troth
(Continued from page 63)
ful realization of all he had in her. She
was his beloved, his Joan; he never
thought of her as apart from himself —
but at times like these he saw afresh all
she was that he was not. She was not
only the sheltered, carefully reared
daughter of wealth, not only lovely and
gracious beyond expression, but she
had a voice, a voice that many a pro-
fessional singer might wish for. It
frightened him a little when he thought
of it — that so much of the world had
been open to her, and she had chosen
him and a farm instead.
The last notes died on the evening
air. The sound of applause reached
them, distant but clear; a voice cried
"More! More!"
"Joan, they heard you at the club!"
Sylvia cried delightedly.
"They can't see you though," said
Phil. "They're not as lucky as we are."
He meant it sincerely, light as the
words were, and in his heart he was
truly grateful. For a little time, while
she sang, she had been the Joan he had
once known, the Joan whom he had
thought of as his, the Joan who'd sung
for the crowd at parties, beside a camp
fire at the beach, on the way home be-
side him in his car. . . .
MRS. FIELD might well have read Har-
ry's thoughts. Proud as she was of
Joan's voice, she would have been bet-
ter pleased if Harry had not written the
song, if Joan had not sung it with her
eyes upon her husband's face. She
said pointedly, "Joan, it's a shame you
never did anything about your voice.
But of course — "
"I'll leave that to my children,
Mother," Joan interrupted tranquilly.
"But of course," her mother went on
as if she had not heard, "one word from
me makes you do exactly as you please.
There was so much you could have — "
"Miss Joan — " Nettie came out on
the terrace, and Joan was glad of the
interruption. "There's a gentleman
here from police headquarters who says
he wants to speak to either you or Mr.
Davis."
"Must be the Lieutenant," Harry said.
"He said he'd stop by tonight. I'll see
him inside."
Joan was already on her feet. "Do
you want me to come?"
"I wish you would," said Harry. "It's
probably about Steve."
"Now, Joan," her mother broke in,
"don't get excited. You know Dr. Wig-
gan warned you — "
"I'm all right," said Joan impatiently
over her shoulder. "I couldn't possibly
feel better."
The young lieutenant of police was
waiting for them in the foyer. He re-
fused their invitation to join them for
coffee, complimented Joan upon her
appearance. "You certainly look differ-
ent from the last time I saw you, Mrs.
Davis," he said, " — lying at the side of
a country road."
A tactless opening, Harry thought,
but Joan took it serenely. "I feel dif-
ferent," she smiled. "Have you any
more news of Mr. Skidmore?"
"That's what I came to tell you," the
lieutenant answered. "I've talked to
the prison hospital again, and he is
definitely improved. Of course, with
his heart condition you never know, but
the doctor told me that the improve-
ment in his condition after his confes-
sion, after he told the truth about his
part in Betty Scofield's death, was un-
believable. And the doctor says also
that the knowledge that he will no
longer be responsible for keeping Mrs.
Cameron in jail might put him right on
his feet."
"But it will be a shock," said Joan.
"Mightn't the excitement — "
"I only know what the doctor be-
lieves," said the lieutenant, "and that
is that it will help him. And, Mrs.
Davis, we don't want to trouble you if
you'd rather not, but we all feel that
you're the one to tell him he's cleared
. . . you and Mr. Davis. He's torturing
himself over the part he played in your
lives. And if he learns that you don't
hold it against him, it will help that
much toward helping him recover."
"It's all up to Mrs. Davis," said Harry.
"Joan — "
"Oh, I want to," said Joan. "I talked
it over with Dr. Wiggan before I left
the hospital — told him that you wanted
me to tell Steve — and he said that I
could do it, provided I felt able. And—
well, I do feel able to do it. In fact, J
couldn't bear not to. I'm as anxious
as Mr. Skidmore and Mrs. Cameron
to have our old relationship re-
established."
"Good," said the lieutenant. "It will
have to be done tomorrow. We can't
detain Mrs. Cameron any longer — "
Joan and Harry nodded. "We'll be
there tomorrow."
"Then we'll set it up for three o'clock
at the Summerville Hospital," said the
lieutenant. "We'll have Mrs. Cameron
there as well. And in the meantime,
we'll go ahead with the plan."
"The plan?" asked Harry.
"Why, yes, Mr. Davis — didn't I tell
you? The court has decided to be
lenient in Mr. Skidmore's case and to
overlook his part in the Scofield girl's
death. He's being paroled in the care
of Mrs. Cameron."
Joan and Harry looked at each other.
"In Irma's care!" Harry ejaculated.
'TPHAT'S wonderful!" Joan cried.
1 "There isn't anything else in the
world Irma wants — and nothing that
could be better for Steve. How did you
ever think of it?"
"It's the result of the thinking you
and Mr. Davis started us on, Mrs. Davis,
when you told us all Mrs. Cameron had
done for Mr. Skidmore in the past — and
he for her, back when he was able.
Now we think that she can help him
come back from this experience he's
been through."
"Oh, she will," Joan breathed. "His
life hasn't been easy, Lieutenant. He
isn't weak — his weakness was never in
himself, but in the woman he loved, a
woman who wasn't in love with him.
His wife. She destroyed him — deliber-
ately— because she was in love with —
with — " she hesitated slightly, without
looking at Harry — "with someone else.
She flaunted it before him, told him that
she'd only married him to be near the
other man. It drove him insane, seeing
this beautiful girl laughing at him, see-
ing his wife laugh at him before all the
world — Irma knows all about it; she
understands and loves him as no one
else does. I know she can help him — "
"There isn't a finer farmer in the
state," Harry put in. "The dairy's never
been the same since they let Steve go.
I know he could get his old job back."
The lieutenant nodded. "You're very
probably right. But just now the whole
thing is up to you two — telling him
what's happened, that he's a free man
once more, seeing that he realizes that
there's nothing but friendship and un-
derstanding on your part."
"We'll do everything we can," Joan
promised.
"I know you will," said the lieuten-
ant. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Davis.
We'll be seeing you tomorrow at three.
And oh — in the meantime, we'll have
Mrs. Cameron officially released, and
we'll have told her of our plans for Mr.
Skidmore."
"Good idea," Harry approved. "It
will give her time to get adjusted. It's
going to be a shock for her, too."
When the lieutenant had gone, Joan
turned a radiant face to her husband.
"Oh, Harry," she said, "could anything
be more wonderful — could things pos-
sibly be better for everyone? Back
there on the terrace, when they were
playing our song, I didn't think there
could be any more happiness in the
world. But now — things have not only
come right for us, but they're going to
be right for Steve and Irma, too. I
know it, Harry. I know they're really
going to find happiness at last."
SHE felt differently the next after-
noon, when she stood with Harry in
front of the grim gray stone prison in
Summerville.
"Harry," she said, "I'm afraid. Sup-
pose the shock is too much for Steve
after all? The doctor can't know every-
thing, and if things should go wrong — "
"It's this place, darling," said Harry.
"You came here too many other times
on unhappy errands. Don't let it get
you down."
"I'm afraid it does," Joan admitted.
"You've no idea how I hate it, how I
hate setting foot inside of it — "
"My dear — " He touched her arm,
and as if the contact gave her strength,
she started up the steps . . . She was
standing in the same gray corridor on
the same stone floor, where she had so
often waited to be permitted to see
Harry. Harry had gone to the infor-
mation desk; she saw the receptionist
gesture, saw Harry go on to the super-
intendent's office.
"Dear God," she prayed, "let nothing
have gone wrong. Let Steve be all
right — " And then Harry was coming
back, his face grave and set.
"Darling, do you think you can go
through it alone? Irma's with Steve
now, preparing him, telling him we're
waiting to see him. But he's very weak,
and both the doctor and the lieutenant
feel that you'd better see him alone."
"With Irma?" Joan asked.
"Of course with Irma," he reassured
her. "But don't, darling, if you think
it will be too much for you — "
She shook her head, mutely, and then
she was walking down the gray corri-
dor to the superintendent's office; con-
scious only to the tension within her, of
the desperate knowledge that every
word she said, every inflection of her
voice, must be right. Then there was
the white glare of the hospital room,
and Steve. And Irma.
The women's eyes met. Irma's lips
moved soundlessly, and finally the word
came out. "Joan — "
"Irma — " And then, somehow, there
was no need to say more. The past was
understood, forgiven, done with; there
remained only the task to be accom-
plished for the still figure on the bed.
Steve couldn't see her, but he must
have known that she was there. He said
weakly, questioningly, "Joan?" and
I
I
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\
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\
\
1
I
I
/
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suddenly Joan knew that she could do
what she had come here to do. Steve —
why Steve might have been little
Sammy lying there, in need of comfort
and reassurance.
"I'm here, Steve dear," she said. "See
— right here beside you — "
He turned his eyes toward her, and
he saw her now; she was sure that
there was recognition in his eyes. She
took his hand. "Steve, we're all going
to be happy. Don't, Steve — Listen to
me — "
"Joan — " His voice broke, and then
somehow he found the strength to
check himself. "I only want you to for-
give me," he said steadily, "forgive me
for what I did to you and Harry."
"There's nothing to forgive, Steve.
Don't you know that?"
His head moved in slight negation.
"I ran away, Joan — and you and Harry
paid the price for it."
"CTEVE, listen." Her hand tightened
*J on his. "There isn't any of us in this
life, not a living soul, who hasn't been
wrong at some time or another, who
hasn't hurt someone. Steve, you re-
member what I did to Harry some time
ago — you know as well as I do that
Harry was never faithless to me, and
I knew it then as I know it now, but
that one moment of decision came —
and I packed my things and left him.
I knew when it happened that I
shouldn't have, but I left him. And
now that it's all over, Steve, it hasn't
made any difference between us. It's
only made us closer because of that
mistake. Steve, I love Harry more to-
day than I ever did before in my life —
and that's the way we both feel about
you, Steve. You're dearer to us now
than you've ever been, both you and
Irma."
"Joan, dear — " Irma broke in, her
voice shaking.
"You mean it?" Steve asked. "And
Harry — does he mean it? Does he be-
lieve it as you do?"
"We both feel exactly the same way,
Steve."
His head turned ever so slightly to-
ward Irma. "Then, Irma, it's all right.
Everything's going to be all right — "
She mustn't cry now, Joan thought
desperately. Not now, with the crisis
still ahead. "Now," she said, swallow-
ing hard, "I want to tell you the news
I've brought — "
Steve's eyes closed. "Nothing else is
important, Joan dear. Now that I know
how you and Harry feel, nothing and
no one is important but Irma and her
family."
"Steve — " and in spite of herself ten-
sion crept into her voice — "this is im-
portant to us all."
"You promised, Steve," Irma broke
in, "that you wouldn't get excited — "
His hand moved, and hers went into
it. "I'm all right, Irma."
"Steve — " Joan drew a deep breath,
spoke as she would to a confused child.
"You didn't kill Betty Scofield. Do you
hear me, Steve? Another man has con-
fessed— Robert Nobel, the man who
caused me so much trouble, the man
whose name I found in Betty Scofield's
address book. He was a dealer in stolen
cars, Steve, and Betty had been work-
ing for him, and he was afraid that she
would give him away. Steve — "
Her heart failed her. Steve hadn't
moved. Only his eyelids had closed
again, and he lay as still as death. Her
eyes, terrified, met Irma's — and saw
that Irma's eyes were calm. Irma still
held his hand.
"Dearest — " Irma leaned close to
him, whispering, "do you understand?
You didn't kill her. You didn't kill
Betty Scofield."
"Both you and Irma are free," said
Joan.
Irma's mouth was shaking wildly;
tears were running down her face.
"Steve — you're free, free to go as you
please — you can go anywhere you
please — you can go home — " She could
go no further. She put her hand to her
mouth, bit hard upon the clenched
knuckles. Joan leaned forward, but
before she could try again Steve's lips
moved.
"Thank God," he said, very quietly,
very clearly. "Thank God — now you're
free, Irma."
"It's you that's important, Steve —
only you — "
"No, Irma. My heart is free of fear
now because I know the trouble I
brought into your life has disappeared.
That's what I care about most."
Joan left them, then, very quietly,
without another word. Her mission
was completed, and neither of them
needed her now. Harry and the lieu-
tenant were waiting for her in the cor-
ridor. Harry went quickly to her and
put his arm around her, supporting her.
"Joan, you look torn to pieces — "
"I'm all right, Harry — but you should
have seen Steve. He looks so terrible —
there's nothing left of him. But when
I told him — you should have seen him.
He didn't move, but it was as if some-
thing had changed inside him. I know
he's going to get well, now, Harry. I
know it."
"I think so, too, dear," he said, very
gently. "But right now, I want to get
you out to the car — and home. You look
plenty shaky yourself. Lieutenant,
what do we do about Mrs. Cameron?"
"Leave her with him for the time
being," the lieutenant answered. "There
are a few formalities to go through,
and then she's free to go wherever her
heart desires. I think perhaps Mr. Skid-
more will stay here until he's well
enough to be moved, but Mrs. Cameron
can go tomorrow."
"WE'LL come for her," said Joan. "Will
» you tell her that, Lieutenant? Tell
her that we'll be here tomorrow to take
her home."
Home. A few minutes later she and
Harry were riding home, rolling along
the Northport road, past the familiar
countryside, the familiar farms. "I'm
glad we went to Summerville to see
Steve before we went on home," Joan
said. "Now we know we're really
going home, Harry, for the first time in
so long — together, and to home as it
used to be, only better, because I think
things will be better for Steve and Irma
from now on. I don't think I'd ever
get over it if all of this trouble had
come between Steve and Irma — and us.
I mean, I was so afraid that they would
never quite believe in our forgiveness —
if you could call it that, because I never
did feel that there was anything to for-
give. But I was afraid they might never
quite believe that we wanted to go on
being friends — and now I know it's all
right. I knew it the moment I saw
Irma look up at me from Steve's bed-
side. Everything's going to be all
right."
"Thanks to you," said Harry.
"To me? You mean because I went
after Robert Nobel?"
"That too," he answered, "but I meant
something else more. Your spirit, Joan,
your understanding of why Irma and
Steve did what they did — "
She laughed softly. "That's simple,
Harry. I understand Irma because she
feels about Steve as I feel about you.
He's the living core of her life, and
everything else stems from him. And
Steve — well, I've always felt especially
close to Steve because there's some-
thing in him that's like you. It's a sort
of alone and against the world attitude
that comes of your both having the
same kind of start in life. You both
felt the responsibility of a family years
before you should have taken on that
sort of burden — "
"Joan, a lot of people have to carry
that kind of responsibility — "
"And I'd like to give everyone of
them some of the ease and playtime I
was brought up in," said Joan. "It
would make them less tense, less sen-
sitive to hurt, more elastic when trouble
comes. Steve had a hard life, a grim
life; he lost his head over Betty Mac-
Donald because she was a bright, pretty
thing — the kind of thing he'd never
known. He'd never had the least of
luxuries, never had the chance to do all
the playing he should have — and you
haven't, either. You don't know what
that side of life is all about."
"Oh, I don't know," said Harry de-
fensively. "I think I do."
"But how do you know it, Harry?"
she asked quickly, and answered her
own question. "You saw it when you
were caddying at the country club . . .
and wanted to swing a club yourself,
only you couldn't take that much time
away from work or your studies. You
were always on the outside looking in."
He threw back his head and laughed.
"Joan, you're fabulous — "
"No, I'm not," she said serenely.
"I'm just married to a guy I love — a
man who hasn't a grain of sense so far
as the laughing of life is concerned.
And — oh, I guess what I'm trying to
say is that because I love you so much,
it's easy to love and understand anyone
who is the slightest bit like you.. Harry,
look out!"
The car swayed as he reached for her.
Prudently, he turned off the road and
stopped the motor before he gathered
her into his arms.
"Sorry, darling," he said huskily, "but
I shouldn't even try to drive when
you're sitting that close beside me,
saying things that make me feel I'm
everything in the world to you, that
our love explains everything to you — "
"Aren't you?" Joan asked, her eyes
very steady upon his face. "And
doesn't it?"
"I guess it does. I — It's a funny
thing, Joan, but when I was in prison,
wishing I'd never come into your life
because I'd brought you so much
misery ... I still felt closer to you,
more — Oh, I can't explain — "
"You don't have to," she said softly.
"I know, because I felt it, too. Noth-
ing mattered, really, but that we loved
each other. Not being separated. Not
even death. It's — why, Harry, it's
knowing a kind of immortality . . . and
don't you dare laugh at me."
He didn't laugh. He couldn't. He
could only hold her closer — and yet
never close enough — while the peace of
the afternoon deepened around them.
One of the most beloved of
all radio dramas is
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LIFE CAN BE BEAUTIFUL
(Continued jrom page 68)
of life is its everydayness, its hum-
drumness, which prevents us from
seeing tragedy at every turn. Mothers
may violate the trust of their families,
faction may turn against faction with
intolerance, and we grieve; but every
day children go to school, mothers
make the beds and wash the dishes,
fathers set forth to work. In the
monotony, the regularity, the order-
liness of life, we find relief from its
violence and passion; from its tragedy
which, fully understood, would require
of man the vast compassion of God.
E. L. C.
The letters that follow have earned this
month's ten-dollar checks:
SINGLE BLESSEDNESS
Dear Papa David:
So many single women face the future
with secret fears of missing all happi-
ness without marriage. I am a spinster
past 50 years of age, and I know life can
be beautiful and richly satisfying — re-
gardless of single blessedness.
I learned it from a maiden aunt who
taught school twenty years before she
married at thirty-eight. During the
formative years of my girlhood, she had
more time, money and fun than anyone
I knew. She loved children and always
had nephews and nieces in her home;
she played with them and took them on
trips. There was never the slightest
stigma attached to the term "old maid"
in our family.
And so I have never felt apologetic
for being an "old maid" or resented
being called one. I have missed mar-
riage but I have not missed happiness.
One by one I acquired three motherless
children, whom I have reared and edu-
cated, and I know they are as dear to
me as if they were my own flesh and
blood. I now have five "grandchildren"
and no blood grandmother has more
satisfaction in her children's children
than I have in the little ones who call
me "aunt" just as their fathers did. It is
love, devotion, self-sacrifice and hard
work which fashion family bonds, and
while I am single, I am not "a lone
woman."
It was not always easy to hold a job
and to make a home for children. Many
of my friends were not sympathetic,
saying my sacrifices would not be ap-
preciated— that I should provide for my
own future. I honestly think I have as
much financial security today as I would
have had if I had used all of my earn-
ings for myself.
Trying to make life beautiful — for
others — I have found is a guaranteed
way of making it beautiful for myself.
No one needs to be deterred because of
lack of money. Sympathy, understand-
ing and a willingness to help are far
scarcer to find than money.
I am thankful I learned from my
maiden aunt not to carry the handicap
that so many single women do — feeling
sorry for themselves. For happiness is
not dependent on marriage or any other
circumstance — it is something each must
create for himself. M. M.
LET BEAUTY SOAK IN!
Dear Papa David:
I suppose that I was about seven
years old that spring morning when
Grandmother Ellen was cleaning house.
The tacked-down carpets had been
taken up and hung over the line for
their annual beating; the rising-sun and
prairie-rose quilts, the fat featherbeds
and pillows were hung in the shade to
air. Grandmother stepped heavily from
the kitchen looked reproachfully at
Grandfather who had dropped down in
the barrel-stave hammock and was
breathing deeply of the May morning
fragrance — the smell of spring — all
mixed up with fresh ploughed loam,
burning brush, and bursting apple-
blossoms.
Grandfather smiled apologetically.
"Dirt will keep, Ellen, but apple-
blossoms last such a little while.
I like to take time to let them soak in."
Grandfather's philosophy, take time
for loveliness while lit lasts, has been
made into a slogan that has been handed
down through three generations of his
descendants.
I have a clump of iris blooming at my
backdoor. Not fancy-named bulbs; just
the old-fashioned purple that will grow
anywhere for anybody. Every time I
carry out waste-baskets or garbage I
look at the silky royal blooms, then up
at the sky with a swift "Thank You,
God." That humble clump of common
iris is my prayer-rug and my spirit is
lifted, even as the soul of the psalmist
was lifted when he said: "Let the beauty
of the Lord, our God, be upon us."
E. B. M.
.State-
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Tall and Handsome
(Continued from page 59)
Ways to Serve Ice Cream
Peel a cantaloupe and cut into 1-inch
thick slices. Fill the center of each
slice with a scoop of ice cream and top
with your favorite sauce.
Slice a small loaf cake in half cross-
wise. Cover the bottom half with ice
cream, replace the top layer. Cut the
loaf in thick slices. Cover with sauce
or sweetened berries.
Banana Splits
For each serving: Place a portion
each of vanilla, chocolate and straw-
berry ice cream on individual plates.
Split a banana lengthwise and place
the halves on either side of the ice
cream. Top the ice cream with straw-
berry sauce, chopped nuts, and mara-
schino cherries.
Peanut Ice-Cream Bar, Fudge Sauce
1 7-ounce package semi-sweet chocolate
pieces
3 tablespoons hot water
Vi cup milk
Vs teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon vanilla
2 pint bricks vanilla ice cream, firmly frozen
2 cups unsalted peanuts, coarsely chopped
Melt chocolate pieces over boiling
water. Add 3 tablespoons hot water
and stir until smooth. Stir in milk.
Remove from heat and 'add salt and
vanilla. Working with one pint at a
time, cut ice cream crosswise into three
pieces. Roll each piece in chopped pea-
nuts, pressing nuts into ice cream
firmly. Store the bars in freezing tray
of refrigerator until ready to serve.
Then pour the fudge sauce, warm or
cold, over each serving. Serves six.
Lemon Ice Cream
V2 cup sugar
2 eggs, well beaten
V2 cup light corn syrup
1 teaspoon grated lemon rind
% cup lemon juice
1 cup milk
1 cup light cream or evaporated milk
Add sugar gradually to eggs, beating
constantly until thick. Stir in remain-
ing ingredients. Pour into deep freez-
ing tray of refrigerator and freeze until
mixture is frozen 1 " from edges of tray.
Turn into chilled bowl; beat with
chilled beater until mixture is smooth
but not melted. Return to tray imme-
diately and continue freezing until firm.
Makes 6 servings.
Orange Velvet
1/4 cup sugar
V2 cup corn syrup
% cup water
1 package orange flavored gelatin
1 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons lemon juice
2 cups milk
Combine sugar, corn syrup and water;
boil for 2 minutes. Dissolve gelatin in
hot liquid. Add fruit juices. Pour into
deep tray of refrigerator and freeze with
control set at coldest point. When par-
tially frozen, pour into chilled bowl
and beat with a rotary beater. Add milk
and beat until blended. Return to tray
and continue freezing until firm. Makes
8 to 10 servings.
My Wife Jane
(Continued from page 26)
and high school. "A fact largely,"
Jane would tell you, "unknown to
me." Known to her, I hope, but can't
be sure, is the fact that we were mar-
ried in 1928. "Well, Time wounds all
heels," Jane Sherwood says. So it does.
You just wait and see — all heels really
get it. I emphasize this point to show
you that one of the good things about
Jane's malaprops is that they contain,
always, a sturdy stalk of commonsense,
a tare of truth growing among the corn.
Twelve years as newspaperman and
Station KMBC in Kansas City gave me
my first radio work which, under the
title of The Movie Man, consisted of
doing a radio version of my own news-
paper column, reading the funnies on
the air (something that had never, at
the time, been done before) reviewing
plays and pictures and etcetera. Every-
thing was for ten dollars. No matter
what you did — read the funnies, com-
mentated on the body politic, reviewed
play or film, got an idea — ten dollars.
FLASHBACK now to an evening in
the year 1930. The Movie Man was
just finishing his stint when it became
apparent that the talent for the next
fifteen-minute show wasn't going to
show, had canceled out. So I had to
talk on for the next fifteen minutes,
substituting for the missing talent
which was, by the way, the late Hey-
wood Broun.
Waiting for me outside the studio
on this fateful night was spouse Jane.
Jane had never been on the air. Her
new marriage to me was to be, we
thought, her career. But we'd been
doing a lot of kidding around the
house and, the night before, had played
a game of bridge over which, when I
attempted to show Jane how not to
trump Ace's aces, she'd snapped "Tell
it to the morons!"
So I called Jane to the mike and for
fifteen minutes we ad libbed. We
played a comedy hand of bridge. We
bore down rather heavily on the
bridge. Jane started to do some mala-
props along the "Love at first slight"
and "Be it ever so hovel, there's no
place like home" line. And after we'd
been on the air for fifteen minutes and
were signing off, "Why aren't we going
on the air?" Jane asked (and, guess
what, meant!) "When are we going on
the air?"
The result of that fifteen minutes of
(Mr. Broun's) ad libbed time was a
sack full of mail. And Easy Aces was
born.
The show acquired a sponsor. Jane
got the ten dollars. I, because I wrote
the show and continued to write it for
its lifetime of fourteen years, got
thirty. A lapse of time, and very little
of that, and I asked for a $50.00 a week
raise. The sponsor, balking, showed
the whites of his eyes. We quit — for
one night. The phone calls were so
heavy (we had a lot of relatives in
Kansas City!) that a new sponsor
coughed up the extra fifty and Easy
Aces, feeling on Easy Street (although
I, a cautious one, still held on to my
column in the Journal Post) resumed.
When a Chicago sponsor, happening
to hear our show, asked us how we'd
like to bring Easy Aces to Chicago, we
were dazzled. But not for long. The
sponsor would pay expenses for the
move but, it developed, "Couldn't
guarantee much else." Crossing my
fingers and drawing a bead on the
moon, I countered the offer of "not
much else" by saying we'd go for $500
a week. It was (young men-on-the-
make, take heed!) a deal.
Still not one to dynamite my bridges
behind me, I continued to write my
column — "au gratin," to borrow from
Jane — for free, that means, every day,
seven days a week, during the show's
first thirteen-week network run.
When our first option was picked up,
I felt more confident but not exactly
reckless, and curtailed my unremuner-
ated newspaper efforts to three a week.
Another option snatched up and I was
doing one a week — a Sunday column
for the home-town sheet. During our
second year in radio, I figured Easy
Aces was riding easily enough, and
high enough, for me to drop column
concocting altogether.
We would stay in radio, Jane and I
agreed between us, only for a short
time. "When we get $25,000 under the
mattress," I said, "we quit." I wanted
to do some good (not radio) writing.
My sights were set on Literature. But
I was to be the one to say "When we
get $50,000, we quit." We didn't. Went
on and got "independently wealthy,"
as Jane puts it, in the fourteen years
that, without interruption and with
only one disruption, which was our
move to New York, Easy Aces was on
the air.
Following the demise, in its teens, of
Easy Aces, my first radio chore was as
chief writer for Danny Kaye's CBS
show — a popular comedy feature and
Kaye being the great kid from Brook-
lyn that he is, a lot of fun to do.
In August, 1946, I was appointed Su-
pervisor of CBS Comedy and Variety
programs — a post created (I take pride
in this commercial!) especially for me.
BUT in January, 1948, I called Jane,
who was at home (a small place, our
suite in the Ritz-Towers, but we call
it home) to the mike again.
The urge to return to active broad-
casting rather than continue as a "desk"
jockey, was upon me. To have Jane
with me during working, as well as
leisure hours was, I must uxoriously
confess, an even stronger urge. I
missed my Mrs. Malaprop. The hours
without her were a vacuum. Nature
abhors a vacuum. So does Goodman
Ace. Result: Jane got a script, took
an hour out to study and rehearse it
and Mr. Ace and Jane, currently to be
heard over CBS, every Friday, 7:00 to
7:30 P.M. (I take pride in this com-
mercial, too!) was on the air.
Jane's only reservation about being
on the air again is the hour at which
we broadcast. "Seven o'clock," she
sighs, "spoils the whole evening — too
late for cocktails, too early for dinner."
So she goes without either and is re-
warded by the wolf cries evoked by a
figure weighing in at 103 pounds, two
and one quarter ounces.
As in Easy Aces days, I write, pro-
duce and direct the new show and, as
in Easy Aces days, I portray the dour
husband to whom everything happens,
chiefly at the well-meaning or, at least,
well-manicured hands of wife Jane,
who very much sums up the situation
and our relationship when she says, "I
have him in the hollow of my head."
On the air, the Aces disagree about
practically everything. Away from the
mike, Jane and I manage to agree more
often than we disagree; manage to like
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and what is perhaps more important,
also to dislike the same places, people
and pets. But there are some excep-
tions.
Jane doesn't like sitting around
Lindy's, for. instance, or Toots Shor's —
"Talking to actors," as she puts it. I do.
Jane doesn't like to play cards. I
do. A couple of nights a week, we have
a few couples over for poker or bridge.
On these nights, Jane usually manages
to snaffle off one of the other wives to
"sit around and talk." During the war,
with hellzapoppin from Berchtesgaden
to Broadway, "Let's sit around and
talk," Jane suggested, one evening, to
the wife of one of the men who had
come to ante up with me. "Talk about
what?" the w.o.o.o.t.m., inquired. "Well,
I guess there's nothing," Jane agreed,
reflectively, "to talk about."
I like to go to bed along around nine
or nine-thirty. Jane goes to bed at
10:30 — not before. It makes her ner-
vous, she says, if she goes to bed
earlier. It gives her insomnia, she says.
"Insomnia," I told her, "is just a mat-
ter of mind over mattress." (She used
it on the air but not in so to speak,
private practice.)
Jane's biggest daily emotion is the
weather, because the weather deter-
mines what she will wear. "Going to
be sunny tomorrow — mid 60s" is her
main topic of conversation after she's
listened to the weather man on the
eight o'clock news. (Though not ex-
actly in agreement on the bedtime hour,
we get up at eight, sharp, both of us,
making one simultaneous twist of the
dial and on our feet ! )
Jane likes city life or roughing it,
very luxuriously, in a plush hotel. She
says she likes the country. "Rain fall-
ing softly outside." But she always has
a friend who bought a place in the
country, gave it some Spanish name for
"Blue Heaven" and sold it the next
year!
We used to take a place in the coun-
try each summer — in Deal Beach, New
Jersey — but this year we're moving,
since Jane has become a baseball fan,
to the Yankee Stadium and the Polo
Grounds. Jane has a box at both places
and we'll summer there ...
Meanwhile, we have our all-year-
round-apartment at the Ritz Towers
and have had for twelve years and
"When we get old, next year, we'll go
back to the land," Jane says.
Jane has a maid she's had for a long
time. The maid gets breakfast for us.
She used to get dinner for us, too, but
during the war our dog, Blackie, ate up
all our meat coupons so we got out of
the habit of eating at home. Now we
use Room Service or eat in drugstores
to which we can take Blackie. Blackie
is a white dog so Jane named him
Blackie.
Jane's biggest extravagance is clothes.
She likes to design clothes. And she
does a lot of sewing. She is now at the
"hem" stage. All I hear when I'm at
home is, "Is it long enough?" Currently,
she is "letting out" a raincoat. She's
good at it, too, at sewing. And quite the
housewife. She keeps the candy jars
filled. The flower boxes. And feeds
Blackie. She really did take "Domestic
Silence" at school.
Jane rather dislikes jewelry — dia-
monds, that is. She goes in for gold
things — a big gold charm bracelet with
little gold gimmicks dangling from it,
that's her pride. But her real extrava-
gance is clothes. She loves to shop.
After all, why not? Jane is five-feet-
two, has hazel eyes and blonde hair,
weighs what I told you she weighs and
Mainbocher becomes her so . . . Some
people think Jane and Mary Benny are
look-alikes. Whether or no, Jane most
admires (Goodman excepted) Mary
Benny's Jack as a comedian. Vina Del-
mar and Pearl S. Buck are her favorite
authors and Louis Alter, mainly because
he wrote our show's theme song, "Man-
hattan Serenade," is her favorite com-
poser.
Jane's husband, speaking for himself,
is six feet tall, weighs 175 pounds, has
blue eyes, needing a dye job, reddish
blond hais needing the same. He smokes
cigars incessantly and among his fellow
entertainers he most admires Fred
Allen, Burns and Allen and Jack Benny.
He likes to think of himself as, to bor-
row back the words he put in Jane's
mouth, "A human domino."
Except for the things we disagree
on, Jane and I are, so to speak, unani-
mous. We like to go to the movies.
Not fans, exactly, we have no favorites
and never mind or, indeed, quite know
what movie we are seeing. We just go
to the movies to be comfortable. Jane
says she doesn't "mind" any picture,
"So long as it's in Technicolor."
We're agreed on our pet hate, which
is of phonies. That's why Jane doesn't
want to live in Hollywood. "Too many
phonies" she says. I tell her "But there
are phonies in New York, too." "Yes,"
she agrees. "But such real phonies."
We're both punctual people, very
punctual. Make a date with us for 5:30
and we're there at 5:25. "We've got to
tell them to be here fifteen minutes
early because if we don't they'll get
here," Jane points out, "five minutes
late." On the subject of punctuality,
Jane Sherwood's malaprop is, "I hate
people that are impromptu"
The line between Jane Ace and Jane
Sherwood sometimes — have I made it
clear? — wavers and grows thin. . . .
"lit 25 minuted a£ teat tt£e adventwie
fan me eueny day"
— So writes one woman about the "My True Story"
Radio Program. "It takes the drabness out of my
life . . . but these true-life stories are not mere
flights of fancy. They are so real they help me
live my own life better."
Every morning, Monday thru Friday, this favorite
program presents a complete drama. Listen to
radio's greatest morning show. Prepared in co-
operation with the editors of True Story Magazine.
7«*te u "MY TRUE STORY"
AMERICAN BROADCASTING STATIONS
Coast to Coast in
Television
(Continued from page 47)
The newest television gadget to be an-
nounced is pretty difficult for even the
most enthusiastic video fan to visualize.
Eugene F. McDonald, fabulous president
of Zenith, Inc., has assured dealers he
will market the Phonevision this year.
The Phonevision would only cost about
$5 to attach to your television set and
through an arrangement with the tele-
phone company and the motion picture
industry, it will enable you to phone
any night and ask for a certain movie
to be piped to you via your tele set. The
cost for each private showing would be
about one dollar! Well — lots of people
never thought the Wright Brothers
would get off the ground at Kitty Hawk;
and the two media used for Phonevision
— the telephone and television — are so
miraculous themselves, that we might as
well believe this will work too.
* * *
John Steinbeck, the famous novelist,
and Robert Capa, the wizard photog-
rapher have combined their unusual
talents to form World Video — a tele-
vision package house. They should turn
out some terrific shows.
* * *
We like to point out how television
can be of help in the community. Last
month we told about the police lineup
telecasts; now NBC teamed up with the
Veterans Administration and put on a
show called Operation Success which
displayed the abilities and skills of job-
less disabled vets. Two hours after the
broadcast, 300 employers came through
with jobs; final total was close to 800!
* * *
Everybody remembers Dizzy Dean,
one of the most famous and colorful of
the baseball greats. Well, Dizzy is
now doing baseball commentary over
KSD-TV in St. Louis. Dizzy supplied
many a baseball announcer with plenty
of material in his day.
* * *
Rudy Vallee has formed a company
he calls Vallee-Video, Inc. V-V, Inc. has
its headquarters in the Nassour Studios
in Hollywood. Rudy is doing a comedy
series called "College Life" which head-
lines himself and gravel-voiced Lionel
Stander. He has already completed a
number of telefilm shorts which tell the
story of popular songs. These combine
live talent and cartoon sketches.
* * *
If you or anyone you know is inter-
ested in studying the technical side of
television with an eye to becoming an
installation or repair man, beware the
phony schools that purport to turn out
skilled technicians, but are staffed by
inadequate instructors. A survey con-
ducted by the New York State Employ-
ment Service found that: "There are
practically no skilled television repair-
men out of work" but "There is a large
supply of veterans" who are graduates
of television schools, and who "find it
impossible to get employment." When
the RCA Service ran large ads in the
New York papers for installation tech-
nicians, they had 2,000 applicants, but
less than 200 were acceptable!
* * *
There will be a tele station in Erie,
Pennsylvania, with the call letters
WICU. Once a station gets going every-
one drops the initial letter when re-
ferring to it; ergo, the station will be
called "I-see-you."
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erber's
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We Won Our Future
(Continued from page 25)
Our walls weren't even finished — just
the bare boards with the studding show-
ing. We had a nice davenport and bed,
but linoleum and wallpaper and cur-
tains— not to mention stoves and such —
were all things in the future when we
could squeeze them out of our checks.
Just the week before we had had a
celebration. We finally had our own
well! — instead of having to bring water
out our rural route from the center of
Lebanon, nearly a mile away.
Sixteen feet by twenty feet, our
house was. You can certainly under-
stand why I was so haunted, night and
day, by the wonderful prizes offered to
the winner of the People Are Funny
contest!
When I had sent in my letter I had, of
course, hit on an answer. But was it the
right one?
Big Chief Windbag — that could mean
the "air" in Cairo. And Cairo was a city
built upon the ruins of others, so that
could answer the second line "I'm one
over others that lie in decay." Then I
had looked up Cairo in the World Al-
manac (everyone in a small town or on
a rural route is familiar with the pages
of the World Almanac) and found the
city was one of the lowest in the world,
according to sea level. That would be
the "upon low ground." But the re-
curring phrase "that's all . . . that's all
I will say" had me worried, until I re-
membered that air corps pilots, when
they wanted to stop their inter-plane
conversations signed off by saying
"thirty-thirty." And "thirty-thirty"
meant the same as "that's all . . . that's
all." Sure enough, the latitude and
longitude of Cairo, Egypt was 30-30.
(I found out, afterwards, that my
memory hadn't been so good. It was
true that 30-30 was a sign-off, but not
for aircorps pilots. It's an old newspaper
phrase, that I had heard but confused
with the other.)
Suddenly, someone banged on my
door. Someone was calling my name.
"Mrs. George! You're wanted down
at the store. It's a long-distance tele-
phone call — from Los Angeles!"
I raced the three blocks to the store.
People stopped their store-buying to
listen, shamelessly. They knew about
the contest — and that I was being called
by the radio program. Mr. Myler kindly
turned off his refrigerating system, so
the humming noise it made wouldn't
keep me from hearing over the phone.
My hands were shaking.
It was a man's voice. He introduced
himself as John Guedal, producer of the
show. He told me my letter had been
picked as the best, the most genuinely
sympathetic, for the week — by none
other than contest judge Secretary of
Agriculture Anderson, himself. I was
to be flown down Thursday to Los An-
geles by TWA plane and there would be
a hotel room reserved for me right in
the heart of Hollywood. After the show
on Friday I would be flown home.
All this was wonderful. Then — first,
cautiously reminding me that he didn't
know the answer, himself — Mr. Guedal
wanted to know what my answer was to
the riddle.
I told him. His "Oh. I see" was ab-
solutely noncommittal. We might have
been talking about the weather. (But
afterwards I found out they were mak-
ing a wire recording of our telephone
conversation, so that they could prove
there had been no funny business, and
that I had guessed the answer cor-
rectly while I was still a thousand miles
away, and not after I arrived in Holly-
wood where it might be conceivable
that I could be tipped off. In contests
such as this they spare no pains nor ex-
pense to make sure that everything is
on the level.)
Then he hung up.
When I told everyone in the store,
they were as excited as I was. Poor Mr.
Myler even forgot to turn on his re-
frigeration again, and all his frozen food
for that day was spoiled!
Ward, my husband, was a little
worried when he came home that night
to hear the news. He was thrilled I was
going to have the trip and the days in
Hollywood — but he was afraid I was
building my hopes up way too high.
After all, having a winning letter for
the week was only the first step. That
only enabled me to get on the program.
It didn't mean I would guess the correct
answer next Friday night and actually
win the Bright Future that the People
Are Funny show was promising.
We looked around our little box of a
home that night, Ward and I, and
thought how wonderful it would be if
I would actually win. But we had
learned, through tough experience, that
dreams are not easy to realize.
When we had met first, around 1941,
on the campus of the Oregon State
Agricultural College, everything good
had seemed possible. We were young
and in love and we had a lovely future
planned, together. I was majoring in
Science and Ward in Education — to be-
come a teacher. But we hadn't counted
on Pearl Harbor.
During the war we still dreamed our
dreams, through our letters. I had a job
with the Civil Service Air Corps in
Eugene, Oregon, and Ward was with the
Infantry in far-off New Guinea. We
could still hope.
But after the war it was much harder
to hope or even to dream. Ward was a
disabled veteran, starting all over again
in the best profession that the Veterans'
Administration could recommend for
his malaria and his battle-fatigued con-
dition. Instead of becoming a teacher,
Ward was learning about shrubs and
plants in a Lebanon nursery where the
VA had placed him. The housing short-
age had driven us to our mail order
house. I did part-time work to help out.
Our windows were curtainless and
cheerless; our walls and floors were
bare boards. We had practically noth-
ing to spend for fun.
It could hardly be called comfortable
living.
And now all this is changed. Because
of two words I spoke on the People Are
Funny program, over the NBC airways.
To Ward, sitting alone in our Lebanon
house, listening to the program that
night, and to me in the broadcast studio
— it meant the same thing. A crazy, im-
possible, glorious dream come true.
I didn't go back right away. Ward
flew down to Hollywood to join me. We
spent a week, mostly just wandering
through that prize home, feasting our
eyes on all the things that are actually
ours, now. Ward's job was arranged
for — a good job in a Nursery close to
our new home. We drove back to Ore-
gon in our brand-new car. We said
goodbye to our friends and settled up
our affairs.
As I told Art Linkletter — "Maybe
people are funny, but to me, people are
kind. To me, you have been Santa Claus."
I
Do men see thrilling
TOM WILLIAMS, the Old Dirt Dob-
ber of CBS's Garden Gate, started
early to make gardens and garden-
ing his hobby. When he was five years
old, his mother gave him some blue
iris bulbs, and watching his very own
plants sprout and flower proved so
fascinating that there was no stopping
him after that. Now, heard on the
CBS network Saturday mornings — con-
sult your newspapers for the exact
time in your area — he is widely known
as a horticultural expert.
Williams was born in Nashville,
Tennessee, on July 12, 1891. His father,
a minister in the Church of Christ,
editor and book reviewer, bestowed
the "gift of gab" on his son. Correct
use of the spoken word was impressed
on the Williams children and quiz pro-
grams were conducted at every meal.
Tom shone whenever the questions
were about birds, flowers and trees.
After being graduated from high
school and taking special courses in
art and at trade schools, Williams ac-
cepted a position with the National
Highways Association in Washington,
D. C. During the first World War, Tom
joined the Army and served as a
sergeant instructor at Charlotte, N. C.
At one period in his life, Williams
took to the road, working for insurance
companies. During his travels, he pur-
sued his gardening hobby on the
premises of local nurserymen and
florists. All through his youth, Tom
cultivated his flowers so well that there
are now thousands of offshoot bulbs
in beds bordering his gardens at Brent-
wood, a suburb of Nashville, and many
more thousands are scattered through-
out the country, gifts to his many
friends.
Williams married in 1927. Mrs. Wil-
liams laid out the gardens of their
Brentwood home, and they have
bloomed to so great a beauty that they
have attracted visitors from every state.
It was this constant stream of visi-
tors that made J. T. Ward, owner of
Station WLAC in Nashville, think a
radio program about gardening might
be a good idea. That was in 193&
Williams is still on the job, although
printing remains his main business in-
terest. Five years ago, the Dirt Dob-
ber's program began to go out nation-
wide on Saturday mornings over CBS
and has been gaining in popularity ever
since.
Tom Williams has a daughter, Peggy
Jean Williams, who is well on the way
to becoming a horticultural expert her-
self.
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Facing the Music
(Continued from page 11)
arrangements each week — one for the
band and one for Bing.
Camarata's insatiable desire to learn
more about music led to further school-
ing at the Juilliard School, where he
earned a trumpet fellowship, and to
study with the late Cesar Sodero, who
conducted the Italian wing of the
Metropolitan Opera Company for many
years.
After leaving the Dorsey band, Tutti
continued to arrange and conduct for
Der Bingle's record dates. His musical
background attracted many other art-
ists to him. He arranged or conducted
for such talent as Dick Haymes, Tony
Martin, Vic Damone, Eugenia Baird,
Andy Russell, Helen Forrest, Jean
Sablon, Hazel Scott, Evelyn Knight,
Anne Shelton, Beryl Davis and many
bands. When J. Arthur Rank decided
to produce a musical film in the Amer-
ican fashion, Camarata was hired to
arrange and conduct for "London
Town." His work on the film and his
background as musical director for
Decca, caused London Records to en-
gage Camarata as musical director.
His original compositions, "Rumbo-
lero," "Rhapsody For Saxophone,"
"Fingerbustin' " and "Tall Trees" have
gained for Tutti recognition as a great
new talent among modern composers.
"The greatest kicks I've had," muses
Tutti, "were either the days with Jim-
my Dorsey or, more recently, while
conducting the Kingsway Symphony
Orchestra in London. As for all the
greats I've worked with, I guess Bing
was the easiest. He doesn't need any
rehearsal. Once through a song and he
walks up to the mike and makes the
final record.
"Right now, though, I'm concentrat-
ing on some more original music. At
the suggestion of publisher Al Brack-
man I'm writing an American Railroad
Suite. It will be in four movements
and is intended to tell the story, in
music, of the many peoples who worked
on building the fabulous network of
track that criss-crosses America.
There is so much wonderful material
about which to write that my problem
is one of omission rather than inclusion.
I should like to write about such events
as the race between the Pony Express
and the first mail train. It's the most
intriguing work I've attempted."
* . # *
There'll be no shortage of Guy Lom-
bardo records for at least another two
years, if the current record ban lasts
that long. In addition to about 50 as
yet unreleased recordings of new tunes
which Guy waxed during the last
months of 1947, Decca has on hand
about 75 sides that were recorded four
years ago and never released. These
are "standards" and feature the ever-
popular music of Gershwin, Kern,
Rodgers and Berlin.
loome fo a, $€1/14™
When it comes to boxing you can in-
clude the Three Suns out, as Morty
Nevins has discovered. Morty, who
plays the accordion in the musical trio,
started taking boxing lessons as a
means of keeping fit and flat waisted.
He was doing all right until Lloyds of
London laid down the law. The boys
had recently insured their hands for a
total of $500,000 and, since boxing is
considered "undue risk to the fingers,"
Lloyds said no boxing or no policy.
Morty'll have to do push-ups.
* * *
Frank De Vol's no fool. Barbers are
always offering him tonics and pana-
ceas for his baldness, but Frank turns
them all down. "With hair," says the
maestro, "I'd be just another orchestra
leader — and with a great deal less value
in comedy."
* * *
Meredith Willson's supporting cast
for his new show is all signed for an
ABC run starting in September. It
includes Paulena Carter, piano prodigy.
Josef Marais and Miranda, African folk
singers, and the famous "Talking
People."
* * *
People are talking about the amazing
rise of Illinois Jacquet. A little over a
year ago he was with Count Basie, and
this year he'll gross a million dollars
with his own band.
If you like folk music, don't miss
Alan Lomax's new ballad book, Folk
Song; U.S.A. Lomax has dedicated
the volume . . . "To ballad-makers, long
dead and nameless; to the jockey boys
whose smiles are dust; to the singers of
the lumberwoods, the cattle trail, the
chain gang, the kitchen; to fiddlers in
buckskin; to banjo pickers; to lonesome
harmonica blowers; and to the horny-
handed, hospitable, generous, honest,
and inspired folk-artists who carved
these songs out of the rock of their
lives, we dedicate this, their own book."
Which makes Lomax somewhat of a
writing artist, in our book.
The Jerry Wayne Show with Alvy
West, which Columbia put on the air
in a five a week musical series, the
early part of June, is rounding up a
series of outstanding vocalists and in-
strumentalists, as if Jerry's voice and
Alvy's Little Band hadn't enough ad-
mirers of their own. It adds up to quite
a fifteen minutes, beginning at 7:30
P.M., EDT.
* * *
Pretty Patti Clayton has been bitten
by the quiz bug and is now part of the
cast of Sing It Again, the intricate hour-
long program which calls for twice-
sung old favorites, telephone calls and
a Mystery Voice.
ALICE REINHEART and LES TREMAYNE are having a few friends
to dinner in their New York apartment — and you'll be there, too,
with the
September RADIO MIRROR
on sale August 11th
{Ctcmina <JVext zSvloMm
FALLING in love to the songs of
Hoagy Carmichael is practically a
national habit. Now that Hoagy
is singing those songs, and others, on
the CBS air, everyone wants to know
more about "the fellow who wrote
Stardust." And more is what we
find out when we move in on the
Carmichael family in our September
issue. Come and visit with us!
Mary Noble, Backstage Wife, relives
some of the highlights of her life
with Larry in a four-page picture
feature, with a color-portrait of the
Nobles that will make a most attrac-
tive addition to your collection. From
the Betty Crocker program comes a
husband-and-wife story to make you
laugh, cry, and stand up and cheer — ■
a true story, straight from the loving
hearts of a couple who know what
marriage should be.
Another September special — very
special indeed — is a friend's-eye view
of a man whose private life doesn't
often appear in the public press:
Lowell Thomas. It's an exciting tale,
the background of this man whose
name conjures up far places, roman-
tic adventure and, to those who
know him, baseball! It's illustrated
with color, too, to bring you an inti-
mate glimpse of the Thomases at
home.
Thousands of you have been waiting
for the memorial to Tom Breneman
that appears in September. And the
regular panel of Radio Mirror fea-
tures is, we think, one of the best
we've planned. So check your news-
dealer on Wednesday, August 11th —
that's when September Radio Mirror
goes on sale.
What Is Your
HEART'S
DESIRE?
No matter what it
may be, your dream
can come true.
Listen to "Heart's
Desire," every day
Monday thru Friday
on your Mutual sta-
tion.
Read about this amaz-
ing show, rich in
heart appeal, humor
and love in this
month's
True Romance
Magazine
Is your daughter ashamed to ask about
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nationally famous
STYIE #100
'Til Make the San Fernando Valley My Home"
(Continued from page 33)
All tizet Including junior
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As M.C. of ABC's Breakfast in Holly-
wood, Tom had to keep farmer's hours
anyway, and it was a toss-up whether
he woke the hens or the hens woke him.
Orders at his Hollywood restaurant
were to make sure, always, that his
own hens' products found their way
to the boss's plate. "It isn't that I don't
trust boughten eggs," he used to say.
"It's just that I know what my hens
are doing. I know they keep busy.
And there's nothing like a nice fresh
yolk to start off each day."
NBC has a female contender for the
chicken crown. Judy Canova com-
plains, however, that her thirty hens
have too much temperament, too ex-
pensive appetites, and too long pedi-
grees— especially when you consider
that they absolutely refuse, under
any circumstances, to lay eggs! So,
until she finds a way to get them back
on a producing basis, Judy has friends
buy eggs for her on the sly at a neigh-
borhood supermarket.
John Scott Trotter is trying valiantly
to throw in the sponge. Several years
of living all alone with 22 acres of avo-
cados, lemons, apricots, walnuts and
peaches, not to mention four of the
more aristocratic types of oranges,
have done him in.
HE INSISTS that it is the machine age
that got him. He could have tended
the crops by himself if he had ever been
able to master the gadgets and sheds
of modern equipment he owns. But
when, after a whole year of practice,
he and his tractor still cannot turn out
a straight furrow, he concedes he isn't
a farmer.
So does he put an ad in the "Farms
For Sale" Column of the local daily,
the Valley Times? Ah, dear me no!
This is ranching San Fernando! He
hires a firm to make color movies and
dozens of stills of his bit of earth, and
these Hollywood presentations will be
shown to prospective buyers from
coast to coast.
There's sterner stuff behind that un-
mown bit of hay on friend Jerry Co-
lonna's upper lip. Jerry and his pal,
Monte Montana, whose farm is "up the
road a piece," have tried to make their
nags break even by riding industri-
ously in round-ups, rodeos, and pa-
rades. Unfortunately, when Jerry is in
the prize money the greenbacks turn
out to be blue ribbons (non-edible and
non-convertible). So Colonna bought
a donkey.
Now if he can teach the donkey
a hatful of proper rodeo tricks he's
home. The great Colonna hasn't given
in — however, at present, neither has
the donkey.
When they do give up, they do it in
true Hollywood style. Wendell Niles
of the Hope show swapped his oat
burner, Anndear, for a plastic lined
swimming pool. He is leaving the
breeding of race horses to the Vander-
bilts and the Howards who, he ex-
plains, have more "time."
Cliff Arquette of ABC's Point Sub-
lime, frustrated and furious at the
gophers who destroyed his careful
planting in equally careful rotation,
sunk a genuine 100% concrete swim-
ming pool and challenged them to
"sharpen their teeth on that awhile."
But the fevers have abated and he is
now muttering gigantic plans about
stocking the pool with trout in the
winter months and the commercial
value of the lowly water-lily.
The basic difficulty between the
amateur farmer and his livestock has
been carefully worked out by ABC's
Mayor of the Town.
"It is," says Lionel Barrymore, "a
bloody business. You have to be a real
hard-hearted Hannah. The chickens
are raised to be killed. The steer are
killed. Everything on a farm seems
to be raised to slaughter. The young
bull calves have to be taken away from
their mamas and they yell — and yell — "
So Lionel raises cats. Whether he
likes it or no. At any time there are
from seven to seventeen felines prowl-
ing the Barrymore ancestral acres pay-
ing due homage to the great man's
special and initial kitty, Puke.
After careful scrutiny of his first
water bill, Lionel decided to leave all
types of farming to farmers. But by
the sweat of his brow via the air waves
and the flicks he has managed to keep
all that is best in the life of a farmer.
He has a few gooseberry bushes, a few
peach trees, and a reasonably healthy
crop of radishes on his twenty-five
acres. "What the birds don't eat, we
get," he brags complacently. And he
has quiet, room to breathe, a brook, and
a fast moving feud with an elderly
neighbor which keeps both of them
sharp. What more could a farmer ask?
Producer Robert Sparks discovered
that his good wife, Penny Singleton,
was not of the hard-hearted stuff that
makes good farmers either. She turned
the turkeys and the rabbits into house-
hold pets, giving them loving shelter
when they were pronounced ready for
table. She sneaks liver and other choice
tidbits to the cats so that they have no
interest in mice and cheerfully accepted
a "dear little puppy" from her friend,
Maureen O'Hara, which grew and grew
into an outsized Great Dane.
ANOTHER wife who has much to an-
swer for is Gale Page. She is cur-
rently trying to make it up to husband,
Count Aldo Solito de Solis, concert
pianist, for using their fertile acres for
eighty-six roses (non-edible), ten ca-
mellia bushes and a dozen pedigreed
canaries who won't sing. She has
planted twenty-six varieties of grapes.
She maintains that grape jelly will pro-
vide a fine source of income to offset
the high cost of gardening. All she
needs is (a) time to put up a few hun-
dred pints and (b) to find out that the
grapes are what the man told her they
were when she bought them.
All this without mentioning the pi-
geons. This is a very sore subject around
the de Solis barnyard. It started when
Gloria and Leopold Stokowski gave
them a happy pigeon pair, Peleas and
Melisande, who started a dynasty when
no one was looking. Now there are
twelve pigeon families who either have
had, or are having, or will have, more
pigeons. The tragedy of all this being
that a pigeon, farmer-wise, is simply a
fancy squab masquerading under a lot
of feathers. But, notwithstanding the
current market price of squab, no one
has the courage to tell the enchanted
Gale what her precious pigeons would
be, if they were properly denuded and
beheaded.
The ranch home of Dinah Shore and
George Montgomery is a success story.
But then George is no amateur. He
was raised on a ranch and, says his wife
proudW, "If you want to make a place
pay you have to work it yourself."
George does. And Dinah is catching
on very fast.
They started with six acres on the
border between Encino and Tarzana
which had once been an old Spanish
fiesta ground. They built themselves
a charming house around the old barn.
They have chickens, guinea hens and
pheasants for their table. When the
price of feed gets too high they pop all
the chicks into the deep freeze. They
have two young steer purchased from
Joel McCrea during the drought which
graze in their alfalfa pasture in com-
pany with another which they are
boarding for owner Niven Bush. They
raise hay and furthermore, they sell it.
For money.
To crown all this, Dinah actually does
most of the canning for their own use
and George, from a lowly A in manual
training at high school, has become the
ace Valley furniture maker. He com-
pletely furnished their house, sold
pieces to Dottie Lamour, the McCreas,
the Alan Ladds, and now has gone pro
and built himself a factory close by the
ranch. His reproductions of Colonial
American pieces are carefully and
beautifully executed — Radio Mirror
showed some in May with the story of
Missy, the Montgomerys' new baby.
The earthy touch is completed by The
Duke, a banty rooster who has won
Dinah's heart. He was raised on the
ranch, has distinguished himself by sir-
ing seventy-three children, and his life
is saved constantly by the quick think-
ing of his beautiful protectress. "The
day," Dinah says, "that anything hap-
pens to The Duke, George will be a
single man again."
DEFINITELY in the pro class comes
Gene Autry with his 390-acre "Mel-
ody Ranch"! Here he has the grazing
pasture for his horses and acres of
citrus fruit which he markets at a
healthy profit. "Melody Ranch" has
several cousins in Arizona and Okla-
homa where Gene keeps his chickens.
However, I can't say how the other
pros in Texas and New Mexico would
react to having a horse in the house.
Champ, Gene's famous movie mount,
occupies the full right wing of the ranch
dwelling. It took persuasion, money
and ingenuity to perfect the system of
sound-proofing, air conditioning, and
special drainage which permits this lux-
ury, but all Gene has to do is whistle
and Champ leaves his front door and
waltzes in the twilight in the patio of
the house.
It is natural enough that since the
Valley is running the boys ragged they
should see what they can do about run-
ning the Valley. Andy Devine is Mayor
of Van Nuys. Abbott and Costello have
sewed up the community of Sherman
Oaks by becoming Mayor and Chief of
Police respectively. Bud Abbott lob-
bied cross-country to get a branch bank
for his township in the hopes that the
farmers would stash away their nickels
before someone sold them a herd of
purple cows or a hatful of beans for a
beanstalk.
But, by and large, the most envied
man in the Valley is the anonymous
gent who sails serenely around in a
dilapidated station wagon bearing the
large legend on his door: No Tengo
Rancho. The "haves" regard this
"have-not" with melancholy wonder.
"He has no Rancho," they mutter.
"Lucky fellow!"
Then they dash into town to tell their
agents to hit someone for a raise. They
want to buy an additional ten acres.
They are going to plant it in hops. . . .
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The Family That Prays Together"
(Continued from page 29)
alone to a broadcasting room at Holly-
wood's KHJ to participate in Father
Pat's first network Rosary program. On
the same half hour, speaking from the
East, appeared Francis Cardinal Spell-
man of New York, and Mr. and Mrs.
Thomas F. Sullivan of Iowa, parents of
the five Sullivan brothers who went
down with the cruiser Juneau.
And Father Pat, who had engineered
free network time on his promise to
produce a major star, found it a thrill-
ing thing and undertook to investigate
the possibilities further.
He learned, early in the quest, that
free air time dedicated to prayer was
virtually unthinkable. But if he could
procure free stars — who knows? Armed
with permission from his superiors,
Father Peyton boarded a train and
headed west. In Los Angeles he asked
to be directed to the church nearest the
Union Station, and so reported to Msgr.
John J. Cawley at St. Vibiana's.
THE Monsignor was sympathetic. He
arranged for Father Pat to speak at
the Church of the Good Shepherd in
Beverly Hills, where many Hollywood
stars worship. Shortly Father Pat was
talking personally to Loretta Young,
and had her promise to cooperate. Jo-
seph Cotten, Maureen O'Hara, Ruth
Hussey, Bing Crosby, Barry Fitzgerald,
Pat O'Brien, Maureen O'Sullivan, Don
Ameche, George Murphy, Rosalind
Russell, Ethel Barrymore, Irene Dunne,
— the stars no sooner met the padre
and heard his "little story" than they
agreed to take part.
Within six weeks he had thirty-one
stellar names, and he had even remem-
bered— a detail he overlooked at first!
— to get their written signatures to con-
tracts.
The idea by now had grown. Instead
of a strictly Catholic Rosary hour, the
program now would appeal to people of
all faiths, to Protestants and Jews and
Catholics alike, with its emphasis on
the. power of prayer. Especially in
these troubled times, with nations
quarreling and homes breaking and the
souls of men assailed by the complexi-
ties and strains of modern life, espe-
cially now could this power exert its
saving force.
Radio advertising men — Tom Lewis,
Robert Longenecker, Al Scalpone —
pitched in along with the stars. On
February 13, 1947, the first Family
Theater, starring Loretta Young, James
Stewart and Don Ameche, went on the
air. Since then about 150 different
stars have appeared, in simple uplift-
ing dramas all bringing home the mes-
sage: "The family that prays together
stays together."
But the real beginning of Family
Theater goes back a number of years
to the little town of Carracastle, in
County Mayo, Ireland, where a small
boy named Patrick Peyton grew up,
fifth in a family of eleven children.
"From the time I attained the age of
reason," Father Pat recalls today, "I
had a beautiful picture of my mother
and my father on their knees together,
saying the Rosary. For nineteen years
of my growing up those daily ten min-
utes of adoration, all of us taking part,
were as normal as suppertime. We
were a poor family, but spiritually my
father's house was the home of a mil-
lionaire. We children grew up know-
ing that there might be a thousand
little annoyances on a home's surface
and yet — where there was family
prayer — a rich unity at bottom that
nothing could assail."
Pat and his older brother Tom were
among the children who came to
Scranton, Pa., in 1928, trying to find
work in the coal mines. Tom became
a miner, but Pat worked as janitor at
St. Peter's cathedral, and here the urge
to join the priesthood rose in him. Soon
Tom came from the mines with the
same ambition. The two boys, Pat,
nineteen and Tom, twenty-one, received
scholarships to Moreau Seminary at
South Bend, Ind. They were graduated
together, served their novitiates to-
gether, and after four years at Notre
Dame college were graduated together
in 1937. They became American citi-
zens, and were sent to Washington for
further study.
Near the end of their long prepara-
tion for the priesthood, robust, healthy
Pat fell victim to tuberculosis and his
hopes were dashed. He had a faith,
however — and a family — equal to the
scourge.
"I believe in Our Lady as a human
person," he testifies now. "I believe in
Her as somebody's daughter, Who has
not forgotten what it is to be human,
Who has never forgotten me when I
needed Her. I prayed, and — "
His mother, back in Ireland, prayed
likewise, offering her life. His sister
Nellie, in Scranton, offered a vow of
perpetual virginity, and her life, if Pat
and Tom might be ordained together.
The mother is dead now. Nellie is
dead. Pat, fully recovered, and Tom
were ordained at Notre Dame on the
same day in June, 1941.
IN GRATITUDE to Our Lady, in grati-
* tude for "beautiful memories of fam-
ily prayer," Father Pat conceived the
plan of a Rosary by radio. This began
modestly in his charge at Albany,
N. Y., in 1943, when thirteen girls told
their beads over a local station's air. But
Father Pat dreamed of greater tribute
to the Virgin, of a wider audience for
the message of prayer. This dream
found . fruition in the Mother's Day
program by Bing Crosby, Cardinal
Spellman and the Sullivans. Father
Pat dreamed bigger, and worked on. . .
From these beginnings grew today's
Family Theater, dedicated to the cause
of prayer and to home life, in America
and wherever it is heard.
How effectively it is serving its high
purpose is attested with each day's mail.
Letters of commendation and appre-
ciation have been received from people
prominent in national and community
life, men like Henry Ford II, FBI chief
J. Edgar Hoover, Eric Johnston, and
other leaders in industry, law enforce-
ment, education, and public welfare.
Church men and women, regardless of
denomination, have added their praise,
and the response from the general pub-
lic has been equally gratifying.
"It sweetens the air," wrote a Los
Angeles business man, and thousands
of letters echo a St. Louis listener who
wrote ". . . if we had more such enter-
tainment . . . this old world of ours
would be much the better place to live
in." A Wisconsin lawyer who had
seen "the results of broken homes and
family ties" wrote glowingly. From
every state, from Canada and Hawaii
comes the mail — from housewives,
farmers, factory and shop workers,
store clerks, office employees and man-
agers, soldiers and sailors and Marines,
fliers and seamen, banks and bank
clerks, day laborers and judges, people
in all stations of life.
And very frequently come the touch-
ing, heart-warming and intimate testi-
monials of men and women, grieving,
perplexed and sorely tried, who have
found new hope and comfort in the
program. Such letters Father Pat
treats as confidential, but the tenor of
a few may be given.
"I had given up all hope," one woman
wrote, "but after listening .... I started
to pray again. Now the greatest prayer
of my life has been answered, and I
am happy."
Another woman, her husband being
lost to drink, heard a program and as
a result fell back on prayer. "He doesn't
drink any more," she wrote, "and now
he also prays."
Typical of many was this: "Our mar-
riage was foundering, we were talking
about divorce. Then we heard 'I Give
You Maggie' (a divorce story) and it
brought us to our senses. We're mak-
ing a go of our marriage now . . ."
A mother whose son had just been
killed in an airplane crash in the Pa-
cific: "I heard your 'Stolen Symphony'
with Robert Ryan — such a comfort . . ."
A YOUNG wife who had just lost her
second, much- wanted baby: "I was
... so full of sorrow and rebellion . . .
about to despair when I listened to
your Triumphant Hour (special Easter
program) . . . God's grace seemed to
penetrate my heart and give me
peace . . ."
The Family Theater, with offices in
Hollywood, has Mark Kearney as ex-
ecutive producer and David Young as
director. The Family Rosary Crusade
(for Catholic homes) has headquarters
in Albany, N. Y. Between the two
projects Father Pat travels assiduously,
by train and plane, raising funds to
defray production costs of some $1,700
a week, mostly for music. Stars per-
forming receive the Guild minimum of
$37, generally turning it back to the
show. Three times a year — Christmas,
Easter, Mother's Day — a special hour-
long program is given.
With Mutual donating Family Thea-
ter's regular half hour, Father Pat
meets other expenses with contribu-
tions from industrial and business
firms and individuals throughout the
country. His winning way, when he
solicits for the cause, is becoming
famous. The man is practically ir-
resistible. "Everybody," as Ethel
Barrymore once remarked, "adopts
Father Pat." Numerous contributions,
in small amounts, come from grateful
listeners. In several cities, advertis-
ing firms have donated billboard space.
Father Pat, unassuming and shy ex-
cept when working on behalf of Family
Theater, believes that through the radio
work he is "paying a debt to a grand
Person, so wonderful, so kind, so human
—and the Mother of God."
"And," he says, "we are selling wares
as real as coffee, tires, radios or cars
when we sell the power of prayer. In
an age when homes are dying, we ask
that people of all faiths let God have
the chance to save homes. We ask that
people realize, through the power of
prayer, that peace comes from the in-
side out!"
And with radio bringing this simple
message into millions of homes, the full
result — as a housewife in St. Paul,
Minn., wrote fervently — "will never be
known this side of heaven."
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if any real talent — although I couldn't
really reconcile that thought with
Rheba's picture."
. But Pat did keep from showing any
interest when Rheba finally called his
office again, excitedly saying that at
last she'd had a recording made of her
voice. Probably he would have curtly
told her to mail it in and it would be
considered— except that Rheba's call
came while Pat's mother was in his
office. Listening to Pat's part of the
telephone conversation, his mother in-
terrupted him by taking the phone and
saying, "I gather that you finally have
that recording Pat is so interested in.
He and I will be over tonight to hear
it on your record-player."
Vainly Pat protested that things
weren't handled that way in the agency
business. "Nonsense," his mother
sniffed. "That girl is talented — it's worth
going to her house to hear her!"
"And it was worth it!" Pat is now
the first one to admit. Rheba turned
out to be anything but a "spoiled dar-
ling with little or no talent." Instead,
she had charm and personality to match
her looks, and a voice lovely enough to
excite even Hollywood's most blase
talent-agent.
"I GUESS both of us were surprised
1 that first night," Rheba told us. "You
know what Pat expected to see — well,
I'd had a mental picture of a little fat
cigar-smoking agent, like those bur-
lesqued versions you see in movies.
Instead, Pat was friendly and likeable;
not to mention his being as handsome
as he is!"
There were other meetings during the
next few days, but all were strictly bus-
iness. Even their first date bore the
same platonic tag. It happened after Pat
had escorted Rheba to an audition for
a radio program — at his suggestion,
they had dinner together and then
drove slowly along the beach. "It was
such a perfect night," Rheba sighed,
"but it might as well have been raining.
We carefully steered clear of all sub-
jects except my singing experience, the
probable outlook for the future, the
best arrangement for helping my ca-
reer. And all that time the beautiful
moon-lit beach, the stars in the sky, and
the warm night air were being com-
pletely ignored!"
It was like that for the next three
months, with neither of them ever
dropping for even a moment the pre-
tense that it was business and business
alone, that was responsible for their
spending every possible hour together.
"I wasn't fooling myself," Pat explained.
"I knew I was falling head over heels
in love with "her. But I didn't dare say
anything. There are some distorted
ideas about Hollywood agents, and I
didn't want her to think I was trying
to take any advantage of a business
set-up."
Rheba, meanwhile, was facing a
similar problem. "In my heart, I knew
it wasn't 'strictly business' that kept
me so excited at each thought of seeing
Pat again — but I'd heard about girls
who tried to substitute coy flirting for
talent in trying to get a break. I
couldn't have stood it if Pat had thought
I was doing that."
Not that even the strictly-business
dates weren't a lot of fun. For instance,
there was the afternoon when Pat and
Rheba had been at the NBC Studios,
where she was rehearsing for a singing
role he had obtained for her. Leaving
via the artists' entrance, they were met
at the sidewalk by a group of autograph
seekers. "I guess it was Rheba's dark
glasses that made them think she was a
celebrity," Pat laughed. "Anyway, they
all started shoving autograph-books and
pencils at her. But the surprising thing
was that Rheba started signing them! I
waited for one of them to look at the
autograph and ask 'Who's Rheba Smith,'
but there wasn't a peep from any of
them — just a lot of excited thanks as the
fans trooped off, proudly showing each
other the latest addition to their auto-
graph collection."
When they were safely out of earshot,
Rheba solved the mystery. "I signed my
own name, but I carefully wrote it so
illegibly that none of them knows
whether I'm Lana Turner or Greer
Garson!"
It took a lot more dates — and an ac-
cident— before they found out that
neither of them was alone in being com-
pletely in love with the other. The
date started out to be a threesome,
for Pat had promised to meet with a
friend, George Byron Easton, who had
completed a wonderful song melody.
Pat, who is also a talented writer, had
agreed to try to compose words for the
melody. But the meeting proved fruit-
less, and Pat started to drive Rheba
home.
As they cruised slowly along, Pat's
mind was still working on the problem
of words for the song. Finally a phrase,
suggested by one of Elizabeth Barrett
Browning's "Sonnets From The Por-
tuguese" came to his mind. Perhaps
that could be the theme around which
the lyrics could be built.
He tried the phrase out loud, forget-
ting for a moment that Rheba was sit-
ting silently beside him. Rheba, not
knowing that he was still working on
the problem of the song, suddenly heard
Pat saying softly, "How do I love you?"
"Love me," she echoed. "Oh, Pat,
you've never told me before. I was
afraid you never would tell me — and
I've been in love with you ever so long."
"DHEBA! But I was just saying the
ft words . . ." Pat broke off and pulled
the car to a stop. He turned to Rheba
then, his eyes mirroring the same hap-
piness that was so evident in her up-
turned face. What was he saying — those
weren't just words of a song, they were
words for Rheba . . . words he had
wanted to say for so many weeks now.
But now it didn't take words. It took
only two people, deeply in love, holding
each other closely as though to make
up for all the time when they hadn't
known that both of them were in love.
Yes, it took . that happy misunder-
standing to bring Pat and Rheba to-
gether— a misunderstanding that turned
words of a song into words of love.
(Incidentally, the song, "How Do I
Love You," with Pat's lyrics, has been
published. It's sure of being always the
top tune in the Mr. and Mrs. Pat Ray-
mond household!)
And it took Pat's letter to us about a
honeymoon in the state of Washington
to start us planning one of the top
honeymoons ever enjoyed by a Bride
and Groom couple. We enlisted the aid
of Al Williams, who had formerly been
on the program's staff, and who is now
vice president of the investment com-
WILL
SHIRLEY TEMPLE'S
BABY
BECOME AN ACTRESS?
Little Susan Agar already has her
mother's dimpled grin . . . and
a personality that captivates. She's
blue-eyed and bewitching. What's
more — both Susan's mother and
dad are actors. Doesn't it seem
almost inevitable, then, that the
next few years will bring us a
second "Miss Twinkletoes"? But
see what Shirley has to say about
her daughter's future — -in the new
August PHOTOPLAY. Louella
Parsons brings you an intimate
glimpse into the Agar household
— revealing Shirley Temple in a
new and surprising role.
And August PHOTOPLAY tells you all
about that "sweet guy" Gable . . . Bing
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tyke June Haver . . . Errol Flynn as a
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august PHOTOPLAY
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TODAY
LISTEN Every Saturday Morning to "Holly-
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Adele Whitely Fletcher. Over ABC stations.
pany that, among other things, operates
the beautiful Desert Hotel in Spokane,
Washington.
The hotel was chosen for their honey-
moon spot, and they were flown to
Spokane immediately after the broad-
cast. From then on, as Pat and Rheba
described it, "The whole City of Spo-
kane went to work on showing us a
wonderful and exciting time."
They were even presented the tra-
ditional key to the city. For once, the
huge aluminum key really opened
every door. So many doors, in fact, that
separate days had to be allotted to all
the groups and organizations that were
bent on showing the honeymooners the
time of their lives. The Chamber of
Commerce, The Mount Spokane Ski
Club, the famous Athletic Round Table,
the University Clufc> — these were only
a few of their hosts during the Cin-
derella-like week of their stay in Spo-
kane. The bridal suite at the hotel . . .
skiing on picturesque mountain slopes
. . conducted tours to Grand Coulee
Dam . . . dancing parties . . . dinners.
Now back in Hollywood, Rheba is
continuing her career — and gaining rec-
ognition that justifies all the dreams she
had about singing. Pat, of course, is
still her manager, in addition to carry-
ing on his regular agency work.
But, even now, their part in the Bride
and Groom picture isn't ended. Remem-
ber what I said about our being just
plain lucky in the kind of people who
appear on our broadcasts? Well, proof
of that is the Bride and Groom club
that Pat and Rheba have just organized.
Composed of couples who have been
married in connection with the pro-
gram, the club has a real and human
purpose. "It's going to be a sort of co-
operative thing in which all of us will
help each other. For instance, we'll
trade baby-sitting dates with each
other. We'll act as a clearing-house of
information about such things as doc-
tors, and markets, and the best places
to find the things that newlyweds need
when setting up housekeeping. And
we'll help each other on housing prob-
lems— when any of us hears of a house
or apartment^ the club's secretary will
be notified."
"Yes," Rheba added to Pat's explana-
tion. "Being Bride and Groom couples,
all of us will have started marriage
with happiness — we're going to work to
keep that same happiness alive for all
the years to come."
Perhaps in those words, better than
in any words I could possibly write,
Rheba has shown why we think we've
been so lucky in our Bride and Groom
couples . . . and why those young
people are establishing such a record
in proving that a modern boy and girl
can be married and still "live happily
forever after."
oLidten when
RATE
SMITH
SPEAKS
15 Minutes with Radio's charming personality
Noon D.S.T. Monday-Friday
Mutual Stations
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They All Want to Lead the Band
(Continued from page 41)
No thinking it over, no fooling
around, no "I'll let you know later."
Sammy always has been quickly and
quietly decisive. I was still bursting
with promotional ideas and hoping that
my sales talk would lead to another
conference when he looked at Peppe
and raised his eyebrows. Both men
nodded at the same time.
"This is the guy for me," Sammy said
to his manager, and he shook hands on
a deal.
I have been with him ever since.
The fourth surprise followed imme-
diately.
In spite of the fact that he had the
confidence and the initiative to organize
his own band in college, promote dates
for it, open and run the Varsity Inn,
and, after graduation, arrange bookings
into increasingly high-powered club
and hotel dates, the man was shy!
There was no reason for it. He had a
gracious personality and an engaging
appearance. He had been an outstand-
ing success at everything he touched.
People liked him the minute they saw
him. But he was definitely not happy
when called on to do anything more
conspicuous than wave his baton or
play his clarinet.
He knew that band leaders do not
stay successful on music alone and that
mannerisms and personality are an ex-
tremely important item in outstanding
popularity. He knew he had to do some-
thing about the showmanship angle of
his career, but he disliked the whole
idea of it.
It is hard to believe it today, watch-
ing his complete ease with all kinds of
people in his ad-lib shows on Monday
nights, but in those days he really hated
making a radio appearance unless he
had rehearsed every word he expected
to say. There was little evidence of the
easy give-and-take so characteristic of
his shows today.
It was murder for him to go through
with it, but he instructed me to make
all the dates I could for unrehearsed
personal appearances so that he could
break down his natural reticence by
constant practice. I used to be secretly
touched and amused when I saw him
brace himself for one of them. His
jaw would set, and he would have all of
the look of a player going in there to
make a touchdown if it killed him and
the entire opposing team, too.
Part of his shyness came from a
curious reason. It will be a surprise to
those who are astounded today by his
phenomenal memory for names. He is
now famous for remembering, instantly,
names of chance acquaintances he has
not seen in years. But in those days
names slipped out of his mind five min-
utes after he had heard them. No one
knew better than Sammy how em-
barrassing it would be if, right in the
middle of an interview, he could not
remember the name of a columnist who
had been nice enough to come over and
get material for a story on him.
Chance came to our rescue in this
matter.
We read an article about a system of
memory control and Sammy decided to
try it. The system was based on the
association of ideas. The trick was to
find a familiar word and associate it
with the new name. You were not sup-
posed to concentrate on the name. All
you were supposed to remember was
the key word, and the name would
automatically pop into your mind. At
least that is what the article said. We
did not have too much faith in it. On
the surface, it looked as if we would
just have two things to remember in-
stead of one. But we tried it out on Ben
Gross of the Daily News.
He was not as famous a columnist
then as he is now, so his name was new
to Sammy. We chose 144 as the key to
remind Sammy that he was talking to
Mr. Gross, and it worked! He never
did say, "Well, it was this way, Mr.
144," either. The name always came
out Gross. It was like a charm.
There are 144 articles in a gross, as
you no doubt know, so that was an ob-
vious association of ideas. Nick Kenny's
key word was "Santa Claus." Santa
Claus — St. Nick — Nick Kenny.
Some of his key words were a little
macabre in overtone. There was a nice
theater man named Ralph Danbury. His
key word was "cemetery." Everytime
Sammy saw him he thought:
"Cemetery — bury Dan — " and would
be able to say instantly, "Hello, Mr.
Danbury. Glad to see you looking so
well." Danbury never knew that a fleet-
ing mental image of a little graveyard
always preceded Sammy's affable greet-
ing, and I am glad to say that he is ex-
tremely well and very far from a ceme-
tery today.
All of the columnists were interested
in Sammy before he came into New
York for two reasons. First, they had
heard him on the radio and knew that
he had something original to offer.
Second, he was booked to follow Benny
Goodman into the Paramount Theater.
This was the toughest assignment any
Let the Editors of PHOTOPLAY
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band could have that year. If you think
back ten years, you will remember that
sweet bands were having tough sled-
ding. Swing was king and Goodman
was undisputed leader in that field. He
had broken all house records at the
Paramount. For weeks, people had
been lining up hours before the theater
opened to make sure of getting in to
hear that clarinet. The youngsters had
been jitter-bugging in the aisles,
screaming and fainting when Benny hit
those top notes. It was fashionable to
be a hep cat.
So it was a big question in every-
body's mind what the reaction to
Sammy's dreamy swing and sway music
would be. If he went over, the Para-
mount date would make him. If he
didn't it would break him in the big
town — for a while, at least.
All of us were nervous, but from the
moment I heard the first note swell out
from his clarinet and I looked over the
audience, rapt and absolutely still, I
knew that Sammy had New York in his
pocket.
He broke records at the Paramount
and his first engagement at the Commo-
dore Hotel followed. From that time on
he was set. Sales on his recordings
pyramided. He was in constant demand
for hotel and club dates. Newspapers
and magazines were driving me crazy
asking for new stories and new angles
for articles, and I was hard-pressed to
keep them supplied because nothing
was happening except that thousands of
people were buying tickets, and that is
hardly tempting page-one news to an
editor. To make my job even harder,
Sammy issued stringent orders that
under no circumstances was his per-
sonal life to be used for publicity.
IN 1939 he had married one of the
most charming women I have ever
known — sweet, petite, with dark hair
and blue-gray eyes. She traveled with
him except when he was doing one
night stands. They were very happy
and still are. They have an apartment
on Park Avenue in New York and a
house in Cleveland — home town for
both of them. She was a widow with a
little boy. Stories about their romance,
wedding and home life would have
rated space all over the country, but
Sammy would have none of it.
I pointed out that the day had long
passed when stars kept their home lives
secret, but Sammy was firm.
"My marriage is a personal matter
and I don't want it played up in the
papers," he said.
So I was stopped on the only good
news angle available at that moment,
and still am, as a matter of fact. The
nearest she has ever come to his pro-
fessional life is the dedication "To
Ruth" of his fabulously popular Sun-
day Serenade Book of Poetry.
Outside of that, we have never had a
disagreement. He has made me feel
like a member of the family, and every-
time I add an important client like Kate
Smith, Perry Como, Truth or Conse-
quences, Superman, Dumont Television,
for instance, Sammy seems to feel as
happy as I do because he is proud that
my agency has kept pace with his own
success.
He turned into my press agent when
I was engaged to handle Eleanor Roose-
velt's radio program. He was really
proud of that and he went all over town
saying:
"Guess who my press agent works
for? Mrs. Roosevelt!"
In spite of his popularity, it was
tough getting the proper amount of
publicity breaks for Sammy in the first
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two years until, in 1940, he handed me
one of the happiest surprises I have
ever had. I was just about in despair
about new angles for him when one of
the biggest things that ever happened
in show business turned up. It started
on a night just like any other night
when Sammy was playing one of his
many return engagements at the Com-
modore Hotel.
One of the dancers, fascinated by
Sammy's technique, had been hovering
in front of the bandstand all evening
going around and around in a little
circle, never taking his eyes off the
baton. Finally he caught Sammy's eye.
Sammy grinned.
"You seem to like it," he said.
"I'd give anything in the world if I
could lead that band just once," the boy
answered.
Sammy knew exactly how he felt.
He had felt that way himself about
good bands before he got his own.
Sammy loves to do things for people.
He could not resist giving the boy a
thrill. On impulse he said, "I'll make
a deal with you. You can lead the band
if you'll let me have a dance with your
girl."
The boy and girl were both tickled to
death. While Sammy swung off around
the floor with her, the boy took the
baton and gave a firm downbeat.
The band entered into the spirit of
the thing and gave him all they had.
He was in heaven. He made the band
go fast. He made it go slow. He stopped
it for one whole beat. He started it
again. His face was something to see.
The other dancers crowded around
the bandstand, almost as pleased as he
was. Everybody in the world seems to
have a secret longing to lead a band. It
gave everyone a feeling of excitement
to see the wish come true for someone
right before their eyes.
Sammy is never slow when a good
idea comes along.
"Maybe this is the gimmick we have
been looking for," he said.
And that is the way "So You Want to
Lead a Band" started. Since then, over
50,000 people have taken over Sammy's
baton and the stunt has grown to be one
of the greatest entertainment features
ever invented as well as one of the
greatest gimmicks a press agent could
hope for.
Let me tell you what a gimmick is in
publicity and what it means to a press
agent. As a matter of fact, let me tell
you what a press agent is.
The profession of publicity seems to
be shrouded in mystery to most people.
I am forever hearing, "You have a soft
life!"
When I ask why it seems soft the an-
swer usually is, "Spending all your life
in night-clubs and shows and traveling
with famous people— that is really
soft."
It would be, indeed, except that noth-
ing could be farther from the fact. A
press agent spends most of his time in
his office at his typewriter and his tele-
phone, hard at work performing as defi-
nite a business service for a star as does
a manager or an agent. He works all
day and frequently all night when news
is breaking trying to keep his client's
name before the public. He has to have
legitimate news to accomplish this. The
day has long since passed when you can
get space with a phony jewel robbery.
A real news story always rates space,
like the announcement that Sammy
Kaye was to replace Perry Como and Jo
Stafford on the Chesterfield Supper
Club starting June 7.
As soon as the deal was made, I gave
the story to all of the newspapers, trade
papers, wire services, columnists, mag-
. azines with radio and record depart-
ments, complete with such facts as that
the show is heard Monday through Fri-
day over NBC stations at 7 p.m. EDT.
This announcement went by telegram
to some publications, by mail to others,
which meant a big job of mimeograph-
ing and mailing because about 400
editors must be notified all on the same
date.
There is no trouble about getting a
news story like that in print, but from
then on, the press agent has to think up
what is called "angle" stories. That is
where the gimmick is so useful.
The basic idea of "So You Want to
Lead a Band" is an ideal gimmick be-
cause it involves people, wish fulfilment
and Sammy at the same time in stories
of intense human interest. If a mayor
leads a band it is news. If a grand-
mother or a little boy or the mother of
nine children leads the band it is a suc-
cess story to a lot of other grandmoth-
ers, little boys and married women. It
is a press agent's dream of heaven.
Don't for a minute get the idea that
publicity can make a feature like "So
You Want to Lead a Band" a success.
It is the other way around. A great
show like that offers the press agent
opportunities to make publicity a suc-
cess, and his job is to see that pictures
are made and stories written and de-
livered to editors. Through this, he can
get space for his client, but the show
has to be there to start with before a
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That was why I was so delighted
when Sammy wasted no time in work-
ing out his new idea. He started turn-
ing over his baton once every night to
somebody in the audience. It was such
a sensation with the fans that he started
doing it twice a night. Now four ama-
teur leaders are selected at every per-
formance he gives in a theater and at
every show he plays at a hotel. Since
he averages four shows a day this means
that well over 5,000 proud people a
year go home with souvenir batons.
When he went on the air last year
every Monday night at 9:30 over ABC,
that added another set of four volun-
teer leaders a week, and it will be inter-
esting to those who have not seen him
on tour to know how these contestants
are chosen.
From volunteers in the audience, four
are selected. Sammy never meets the
contestants before they come to the
stage, and no one he knows is ever
selected. Sammy has an uncanny knack
with people. One look, and he knows
whether to kid a grandmother and be
respectful to a teenager, or the other
way around. The short interview he
does with each contestant on the air de-
veloped out of his own interest in
people. He was curious to know, him-
self, why each separate person wanted
to lead a band enough to travel hun-
dreds of miles in some cases, and he
figured listeners would be interested,
too.
DE VARIES his questions according to
" the personality of the contestant.
Sometimes he gets surprising answers.
Recently when he asked one man.
"Why do you want to lead a band?" the
answer came back, "So I can give my
brother-in-law a job."
"Is he a musician?" asked Sammy.
"No, but he can't do anything else
either, and I'd like to get him out of the
house."
Another contestant brought down the
roof when Sammy said, "What's your
name?"
"Johnny So-and-So," said the boy.
"But I wish you'd call me Johnny
Banana."
"Why?" said Sammy.
"Because when I get my own band I
want to call it Johnny Banana and his
Music with A-ppeal."
The house came down, again, at the
sight of Sammy's face when he asked
a sedate woman of not exactly girlish
figure what her occupation was and she
said blandly, "I'm a stripper." (It de-
veloped that she stripped tobacco
leaves, not her own garments.)
The winner is always picked in the
same way — by audience applause. It is
interesting to note that, while audi-
ences will roar over the wisecracks of a
smart alec, they never give him the
final vote. For instance, there was a
southpaw ball player in one town who
insisted on having a left-handed baton
and then wanted to reverse the seating
arrangement of the band. He had a lot
of fun with the audience, but they
picked a boy who was working after
school to buy a trumpet.
People who are really good leaders
with a basically serious love of music,
and people who have a touch of pathos
in their lives are the ones the audi-
ence usually chooses. Newly married
people, either boy or girl, are prime
favorites. Curiously enough, people
who are already famous never win.
Lana Turner drew a thunderous
round of applause when she turned up
out of a clear sky during Sammy's en-
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gagement at The Palladium in Holly-
wood and asked for a chance to lead the
band, but she did not win. Neither did
Jack Carson, though he had plenty of
rhythm and was very funny. Red Skel-
ton tried so hard he broke the baton.
The audience loved it, but they voted
him down.
Mayors, governors, Army and Navy
officers, doctors, lawyers, celebrities in
every walk of life turn up every week,
just as eager to lead the band as any-
one else, but the audience always picks
some unknown for final choice.
Starting in 1946, Sammy began
regional contests with the four winners
competing for a grand prize. The play-
off was held that year in Hollywood. In
addition to a week's holiday in the film
capital, the grand prize included $1,000
cash and merchandise worth many
times that amount.
In 1947, the play-off was held in Car-
negie Hall, the sacrosanct home of the
New York Philharmonic and usually
engaged by only the most serious of
concert stars. Runners-up, both years,
were grandmothers, one 67 and the
other over 70, but the national play-offs
were won by a seventeen-year-old boy
each year: Ted Bemis of Springfield,
Mass, in 1946 and Rodney Andrews of
Dayton, Ohio, in 1947. Both plan to
spend their awards on musical educa-
tion, and Sammy expects to hear from
both of them as successes within a few
years.
"So You Want to Lead a Band" was
keeping me and two assistants busy on
Sammy's account when he handed me
another surprise.
The poetry reading, which makes his
Sunday Serenade at 3:30 P.M. over
ABC so popular, started in the same
off-hand fashion.
Sammy does not sing. One afternoon,
just to vary things, he took over a
vocalist's spot anyway. He spoke the
words of a song very softly into the
microphone. It made an immediate hit.
He tried it again on another song. More
letters. He tried it again. All songs do
not lend themselves ideally to this
treatment, so he gave them one of his
favorite poems.
This ex-quarterback loves poetry and
thinks that it is easier to talk about cer-
tain emotions like love, loyalty, friend-
ship, loneliness, in verse rather than in
ordinary speech. He chooses poems
from many sources, but they always
have universal appeal because they al-
ways are about emotions that every-
one shares. On the subject of friends,
he read this:
"Make new friends but keep the
old;
Those are silver, these are gold.
New-made friendships, like new
wine
Age will mellow and refine.
Friendships that have stood the
test —
Time and change — are surely best;
Brows may wrinkle, hair grow
grey,
Friendship never knows decay . . ."
And on love:
"I love you
Not only for what you are
But for what I am
When I'm with you . . ."*
So many thousands of requests for
copies of the poems he read on the air
flooded in that, in 1942, Sammy Kaye's
Sunday Serenade Book of Poetry was
published. It went into ten editions
within the year! To date, it has sold
more than 150,000 copies and is still
going strong.
This led to Sammy's National Poetry
Contest. It started in 1946 and is now
an annual event. There were 25,000
entries last year! We had to put on a
staff of girls just to open the letters, and
Sammy was busy for weeks, reading
and selecting the winning poem,
"Heart's Desire," by Mrs. B. Y. Williams
of Cincinnati.
This program is very close to
Sammy's heart, as is another of his en-
terprises. He is the President of the
Hospitalized Veterans Foundation, an
organization that supplies bedside
radios, television sets and phonographs
to GIs in hospitals throughout the
country. Sammy gives innumerable
benefits for this cause as he goes around
the country and his slogan contest, re-
cently completed, resulted in a heavy
contribution of funds. He feels that too
many of us think that the war is over
and forget the boys who are still paying
the price of victory, so you will con-
tinue to hear of this special and impor-
tant cause on his programs.
I have been a part of Sammy's career
for ten years. There has been something
new every minute, so I have reason to
suppose that he is working up to an-
other surprise for me any time now,
and I regard the prospect with mixed
emotions, because it probably will in-
terfere with a secret project of my own.
I want to lead a band!
* All poems from Sammy Kaye's Sun-
day Serenade Book of Poetry. Per-
mission to reprint by courtesy of Ser-
enade Publications, Inc.
DL fl UlILUBIVL . . . without leaving your radio
every Sunday afternoon on TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES
Now you can get all the thrills, all the excitement of being a detective without
leaving your favorite armchair. "TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES" takes you
with the police as they investigate a crime. You're at the scene, collecting clues,
questioning witnesses. You're there as they check alibis, test theories. And
finally, you're in the squad car as they close in on the killer.
There's pulse-pounding action when the pages of True Detective Magazine come to
life,
every Sunday afternoon on
"TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES"
All Mutual Stations
$500 REWARD for information on wanted criminals. Tune in for details.
Coast to Coast
(Continued from page 17)
like show business. Take the little
thing Chet Lauck and Norris Goff did
when their music backgrounder, organ-
ist Emerson died suddenly. Lum ?n
Abner not only gave the musical job to
Elsie Mae Emerson, the man's widow,
but actively helped and encouraged her
through her first rather nervous per-
formance on the air, spotting cues for
her and silently applauding as she
played each bridge.
* * *
Ken Niles is celebrating his twentieth
year on the air. It was in 1928 that a
local station in Seattle, Washington,
hired Ken as a singer-announcer. He'd
made his initial "debut" in radio in
1927, as a member of a U. of Washington
quartet, but that was a single and un-
paid appearance and he doesn't con-
sider it a part of his professional career.
Niles worked for several Seattle sta-
tions and for KVI in Tacoma before
moving to Hollywood in 1931. Today
he announces four major coast-to-coast
shows and stars as emcee on his own
CBS Pacific network audience partici-
pation program, Padded Cell. He's also
slated for television come cold weather.
* * *
Lionel Hampton is one of the jazz
greats starred in the new film, "A Song
Is Born," along with luminaries Benny
Goodman, Charlie Barnett, Tommy
Dorsey and Louis Armstrong. Hampton
is also a Saturday regular on Mutual.
* * #
Evelyn Knight is reading the scripts
for two Broadway musicals in which
she's been offered the leads. Both are
up for Fall production and Evelyn is
trying to find a way to accept one of
them, which means working out her
radio schedules the right way.
* * *
It seems as though practical jokers
just can't stay away from a program
like Truth or Consequences. Remem-
ber the gal who lived two weeks in the
lap of luxury by claiming she was "Miss
Hush" and the program would pay her
expenses? Now a new trick has come
up. A number of clowns with a warped
sense of humor have taken to phoning
their friends and saying, "This is Ralph
Edwards — you have just won $25,000!"
The recipients of these calls telephone
to Hollywood just to make sure, and
the secretaries at NBC Hollywood are
getting a little annoyed with their
unpleasant job of telling them the dis-
appointing truth.
Thanksgiving and Christmas are still
months off, but NBC announces that it
has snatched those big, two-hour, all-
star holiday shows from CBS, which
has been broadcasting them for a watch
sponsor all these years. Well, they say
that competition is the life blood of free
enterprise. Even if a lot of it is spilled?
* * *
On radio you have to be extra careful,
especially about gags. Seems Fibber
McGee absent-mindedly made a wise-
crack about "Klondike Kate." Trouble
is that there is a real Klondike Kate and
she objected to Fibber's gag. So now
there's a lawsuit.
* * *
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where there is time for commercials be-
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gaps in baseball games. The problem
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of N. Y. Giant games and getting almost
continual plugs — through the simple
expedient of buying up every inch of
display advertising space on the Polo
Grounds fences.
* * *
Penny Singleton recently bought
another of Lassie's offspring. Now each
of Penny's two daughters has her own
Lassie descendant for a pet.
* * *
Gene Autry is no longer the only
cowboy star who doubles in radio sta-
tion operations. Tex Ritter, horse opera
film star and recorder of albums for
kids, has been granted an FCC license
to operate a San Antonio radio station.
Dick Chevillat and Ray Singer, script
writers for the Phil Harris-Alice Faye
show, are spending the summer doing
the book for a Broadway musical. The
score is by Julie Styne and Sammy
Cahn. They hope to get the show on
its way before radio duties call them
back.
* * *
It is rumored that the two major
political parties will pour an estimated
eight million dollars into radio and
television coffers during the coming
election. They both wanta win bad!
* * *
Another rumor . . . whisperings
around radio row have it that Henry
Luce, owner of Time-Life-Fortune, is
interested in buying station WOR, New
York outlet of the Mutual chain, to get
in on the television scramble. Life on
the air?
* * *
Jack Barry, Juvenile Jury m.c. has
been widening his scope this summer.
Not content with radio, television and
the movies, Jack's been producing plays
for a stock company on Long Island
this straw hat season.
* * *
George O'Hanlon, who plays the title
role in Warner Brothers' "Joe Mc-
Doakes" short subjects, has been set to
star on a new comedy show scheduled
to open over Mutual in September.
* * *
Lots of people have been wondering
whether Arnold Stang, "Gerard" on the
Henry Morgan show, looks anything
like the way he sounds. The answer is
yes and more listeners are likely to be
able to check that for themselves soon,
because chances are Morgan will work
Stang in on his video stanza.
* * *
Maybe the success of radio per-
formers in the film "Naked City," will
break the ice for air actors in Holly-
wood. As a rule, movie producers stay
away from radio when looking for
talent for the flickers. But when "Naked
City" was shot in New York, twenty
prominent parts were played by New
York radio actors and actresses, out-
standing performances being given by
such radio familiars as House Jameson,
Howard Duff, Anne Sargent, Adelaide
Klein, Grover Burgess, Tom Pedi, Enid
Markey, Frank Conroy, Hester Sonder-
gaard and Ted DeCorsia. Of all of
these, only Howard Duff is really known
to the movie goers. But they all proved
that talent isn't usually limited to one
medium and a good actor on the air is
a good actor to see, too. Anyway, it's
an idea for the talent scouts.
* * *
John Brown, who plays Father Foster,
on the Date With Judy show, is living
proof that you should never let any-
thing get you down. Years ago, after
working in several Broadway shows,
Brown was given his first radio audi-
tion. The director, a forthright man,
pointed at Brown and announced,
"You'll never become a radio actor."
Brown has made a liar of that director
some 7,500 times, the number of radio
appearances he's made since that first
audition.
* * *
Cute note . . . Have you noticed that
the same sparkling water outfit that
used to sponsor Information Please, the
show to wrack the experts' brains, now
sponsors It Pays To Be Ignorant?
GOSSIP AND STUFF . . . Paul White,
ex-news chief of CBS, is writing a
novel which promises to be "The Huck-
sters" of the radio world . . . MGM is
talking to Ozzie and Harriet about co-
starring in a series of pictures based on
their radio adventures . . . Alan Young
is making a book out of essays and
stories he wrote for Canadian publica-
tions while he was still in Toronto radio
. . . Howard Duff will soon be seen in a
Western movie, in which he'll be a hero,
not a villain . . . Looks like Max Baer
is set for a radio series . . . Phil Harris-
Alice Faye stanza has been bought by
a new sponsor, the one which has
dropped Jimmy Durante . . . Date With
Judy, which looked as if it might fall by
the retrenchment wayside has been re-
newed for the same old stand come
autumn . . . Ella Fitzgerald has been
signed to play four weeks in London
this September . . . One of the new
shows you're likely to hear is an Alan
Young-Dorothy Lamour combination
. . . Reports have it that a major film
studio is interested in buying one of the
major networks.
LISTEN TO
the radio program everyone's talking about . . .
"lets talk hollywood"
FEATURING
GEORGE MURPHY
EDDIE BRACKEN
leading Hollywood columnists and
famous Hollywood guest stars
every Sunday on NBC
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6 PM, CDT. 4 PM, PDT.
Listen to "Lets Talk Hollywood"
this Sunday, and learn how you
can win a GOLD PASS for
one year to your favorite theater
and a five-year subscription to
Photoplay Magazine.
Miracle in Cuba
(Continued from page 23)
columnists and advertising people on
this trip to Cuba. The letter was signed
"Goar Mestre"— a name I'd never heard
before.
Well, I told my son about it and I
wrote my daughter and they were as
amazed as I. All that week while I was
making a new dress to wear and re-
modeling a hat that had once belonged
to my daughter, I had to keep telling
myself over and over again that I was
going to fly. That's as far as I could get
in my mind. After that, I didn't know.
The flight, I felt, would be my big-
gest thrill and it was, indeed, exciting.
But other things happened that were
just as wonderful as the flight.
I loved every minute I spent in the
air — even when we hit some head winds
over Florida and the plane bucked like
a bronco. What I couldn't understand
was how the rest of the people in the
plane — the newspaper and magazine
people and the advertising men — could
sleep or play cards. If I'm 10,000 feet off
the ground I want to know about it, to
be aware of every second.
IT WAS cold when we left New York
* and I had worn my cape and hat. But
we came down into a warm tropical
night and I just breathed in that soft
air and looked at the palm trees and
said to myself, "I'm in Cuba. Some-
how a miracle has happened. I don't
know why I'm here. I don't know who
Goar Mestre is but I'm here." It was
wonderful.
Of course I met Goar Mestre very
soon, along with his beautiful Argen-
tinian wife. He is thirty-five years old
and a fourth-generation Cuban. He was
educated in America. Is a Yale gradu-
ate, in fact. For quite a while he had
the controlling interest in the Cuban
network CMQ. Then he decided that it
would be a wonderful thing for Cuba if
he built a place comparable to our
Radio City. He did just that. It's called
Radiocentro and it's one of the most
beautiful and modern buildings you
ever saw. It cost three million dollars.
In the building is a big movie theater,
all the CMQ studios — there are eleven
of them — two restaurants, a roof night
club, a bank, fourteen stores of various
kinds, an auto showroom and seven
floors of offices.
I found out that the reason the man
who had first talked to me on the tele-
phone had laughed when I told him
what I thought of disc jockeys was
that Mr. Mestre was determined there
would be no disc jockeys on his Cuban
network. My comment on them might
have been what got me chosen as a
typical American radio listener.
No, there are no disc jockeys on CMQ
but, and I think this is very funny, you
know what the Cubans and the Mexi-
cans and the South Americans (CMQ is
heard all over the Latin American
countries) love? Daytime dramas.
About sixty percent of the eighteen-
hour day of radio is devoted to these
dramatic shows. They're in Spanish,
of course, and they're like our Joyce
Jordan and Life Can Be Beautiful and
others except with a difference. The
plots are more torrid than ours and
there is much more about love. That's
the Cuban temperament.
If you've ever been to a radio broad-
cast in the United States (I have several
times) you'll remember that the spon-
sor's booth, which you can see from the
place where the spectators sit, is a small
booth seating only ten or fifteen people.
But that's not how it is in Cuba. The
sponsor's booth seats a hundred because
a Cuban sponsor likes to bring his
entire family and the family's family.
There is a private entrance to the
booth so all these people won't have to
go through the studio. And here's the
reason for that. Cubans are notorious
for being late and Mr. Mestre can't have
people — even if they have bought time
on the air — trailing through the studio
while a program is going on.
While I'm on the subject of the
Cubans having so little sense of time I'd
like to tell you about the Radio Clock or
Radio Reloj, as it is called down there.
This is a broadcast in a separate studio
and it goes for the eighteen hours a day
that the network is on the air. It's a
mechanical device and it sounds like
the ticking of a metronome. Two men
are in the studio constantly because
every minute is divided into three
periods of twenty seconds each. And
each twenty seconds is then divided
into five seconds of news, five seconds
of commercials and five seconds for
telling the time.
Mr. Mestre said, "In this way we
hope the Cubans will be on time for
their appointments." But I'm afraid
that is just a dream for during the four
days I was in Cuba nobody was on time
for anything anywhere, Radio Reloj
or not!
These Latin Americans may be late
but they're certainly not lazy. I learned
later that we had arrived a day before
we were "expected, due to some trouble
about getting the plane. So that first
day when we saw Radiocentro it was
not landscaped. There were trucks
there with greenery and plants and
small trees but no planting at all had
been done. Goodness knows what hap-
pened but the next day when we ar-
rived for the official dedication cere-
mony the grounds around the beautiful
building were green and growing. Those
men must have worked all night. This
is the kind of thing you expect in the
United States but not in Cuba.
THE entire building and the studios
are as up-to-date as any radio station
anywhere. The doors are three-and-a-
half inches thick of solid mahogany and
remember I'm a good carpenter and
such things appeal to me. The offices
are like a picture, beautifully deco-
rated in chartreuse, with white leather
chairs and desks of native wood in
satin finish. The control rooms are as
big as those at the National Broadcast-
ing Company in the United States.
Mr. Mestre's architects planned the
lobby and all the studios so that every-
body can see everybody else. The
Cubans practically demand this. They
just won't come to a place unless they
can see and be seen.
Well, now let me tell you about the-
programs I heard and the kind of things
the Cubans like— besides drama. There
were wonderful choral groups. There
was a grand Argentinian singer named
Armanda Ledesma. She sang what, I
suppose, would be Cuban blues songs.
Then there was Greta Menzel, a Cuban
girl, who sang, if you can imagine it,
Viennese songs. She was very good in-
deed. Ernesto Lecuona played the
piano. He's the composer of such lovely
numbers as "Siboney" and "Mala-
guena." Cuba is full of music, it seemed
to me, and full of rhythm.
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The group that thrilled me most were
the Afro-Cubans. I've always liked
our American hillbillies on the air;
these are Cuban hillbillies. They beat
the drums they had made themselves,
played the native instruments and sang.
It was so strange to see them making
this most primitive music in that highly
functional, utterly modern studio. It
was the old world meeting the new.
Mr. Mestre had left nothing undone.
From Mexico he had invited many high
officials and some Mexican talent, in-
cluding a comedian who had me laugh-
ing till the tears came.
And things were arranged so that we
really saw Cuba, including some "night
life."
One night we were having supper at
a cafe with a couple of men from CMQ.
One of them asked me what I wanted
most to see in Cuba.
I said, "I'd like to go to a typical
Cuban night club." (And I'll tell you a
secret which I didn't tell them. I've
never been to a night club in the United
States.) "I want to see them play the
maracas," I said, "and do the native
Cuban dances."
One of the men — and I think he was
a technician at the network — pointed
across the table at the other Cuban and
said, "There is the greatest maraca
player in Cuba."
With that he began to beat out
rhythms on his plate using his knife
and fork as sticks. It was simply won-
derful and I urged him to go on. By
the way, that was the first night I aired
my Spanish and they were all happy
and surprised that I could speak their
language.
Well, sir, that fellow got wound up.
He took all the water glasses around the
table and tuned them to a scale. He
played on them, making beautiful
Spanish music.
He asked me where I was staying and
I told him at the National Hotel. Then
he asked, "Do you have a balcony?"
I said, "Of course."
He said, "I will serenade you to-
night."
He didn't of course, and I knew he
wouldn't but I thought it was cute of
him even to suggest it.
Since a miracle had happened to me,
just my being there, I felt God was on
my side. He certainly was when I met
the President of Cuba. Yes, I did that,
too. I did everything. And I don't know
what possessed me to do what I did
except that God was looking after me.
This is what happened:
The President of Cuba, Raymond
Grau e San Martin, dedicated Radio-
centro with a speech over CMQ at
twelve noon. We all heard it and loved
it. Afterwards he and his staff returned
to one of the big studios and all of the
Americans who had come down on the
plane lined up to be introduced to him.
Now imagine you're one of those people
filing past the President. How do you
know what to do?
When it came my turn to meet him I
did not stick out my hand to shake his.
Instead I just bowed and said, in Span-
ish, "Honored." How thankful I was
that I had done just that and only that.
For the person directly behind me
started to shake hands with him and
his aide, who stood behind him, said,
"The president does not shake hands."
At first I thought this must be some
Cuban custom. But I remembered from
my days in Mexico that the Latins are
great ones for shaking hands. Later
I learned about President Grau. He is
greatly loved in Cuba but for several
years he was in exile and when, at
last, he came back the people were so
glad to see him that they shook his hand
so much they crippled it.
Now to pick up the loose ends and to
tell you the other things I did. On
Thursday we had lunch at the Colony
Restaurant and I've never tasted any-
thing better than that "arroz con polio,"
a native dish. That same afternoon
some of our party went to the Jockey
Club to see the horse races but I pre-
ferred a sight seeing trip around old
Havana. Later the Cuban Advertisers
Association gave a cocktail party for
us at the Lyceum Tennis Club and at
ten o'clock that night we witnessed a
Jai-alai game.
On Friday, Radiocentro was blessed
by Cardinal Manuel Arteaga and all the
employees and the talent of CMQ were
present. Then the president spoke and,
as I've told you, received everyone.
Saturday there was a wonderful
luncheon at the Vedado Tennis Club
and more radio programs to be seen
and heard. Then we went to the Ha-
vana Yacht Club.
On Sunday we were on the Constella-
tion flying back to the United States.
When we took off from Cuba the sky
above us was like blue satin and the
bay below us looked like blue satin, too.
I am back now. I have told this story
to my friends and my son and daugh-
ter-in-law. I am going to Washington
to tell it to my daughter and her hus-
band. It is an experience that will live
in my memory forever and it makes me
believe that if you want something
enough, if you dream about it enough,
it can and will happen.
find a new star with
HORACE
H EIDT
Every Sunday night Horace Heidt opens
the door of opportunity to America's
talent. He gives local youngsters a chance
to win $5000 PLUS radio and screen
contracts.
TUNE IN TO HORACE HEIDT. . . EVERY SUNDAY NIGHT
Over All Stations of the National Broadcasting Co.
And read Horace Heidt's own story in the August issue of TRUE STORY magaiine
... on sale at newsstands now.
Hear his touring, talent-hunting show and
see if you can pick a winner. It's exciting
to hear America's up-and-coming favor-
ites. And — who knows — the broadcast may
be right from your home town.
a
I tried to commit Suicide!
u
You will want to read every story in the August issue of
TRUE EXPERIENCE
the magazine written by men and women you have
read about in the newspapers the magazine that
reveals the untold human emotions and conflicts
behind these dramatic TRUE EXPERIENCES.
Ten Year Vigil Ends at Altar
"I Married Tarzan"
by Allene Weismuller
Mother Put in Jail
—Tells Her Story
"I Gave Away My Children"
by Ro villa Fen ton
Couple Defy KKK;
Arm to Shoot It Out
"We Fought the KKK"
by Bertha Bow land
This is Bobbie Allen— saved from destroy-
ing the talent that made her life a torture.
You will understand and sympathize with
the motives that drove this lovely young
musician to the brink of suicide.
<*,
31
AND JO OTHER FEATURE STORIES
TRUE
AU&
xpenence
I The Magazine of FACT, not Fiction
On tale at
your newsstand
NOW!
R
M
99
yiTOWialiOn
Step up and ask your questions — we'll try to find the answers
FOR YOUR INFORMATION— If there's something you want to know about
radio, write to Information Booth, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42nd St., N. Y.
We'll answer if we can either in Information Booth or by mail — but be
sure to sign full name and address, and attach this box to your letter.
R
■
100
RETRACTION
Dear Editor:
In a recent issue
of your magazine
(April) the Infor-
mation Booth made
the statement that
Norma Jean Nilson
was the youngest
member of AFRA.
I believe that Norma
Jean is a few months _ Anne Whitfield
older than Anne Whitfield who will be
ten in August, and who has been a member
of AFRA for several years. Anne appears
as Phyllis on the Band Wagon program
and as Penny in One Man's Family. She
is also heard frequently in many of the
other "big name" shows.
Mrs. J. M.
Birmingham, Ala.
You're very right, and we gladly print
a retraction. Norma Jean, who was born
on January 1, 1938, is seven months older
than Anne Whitfield who was born on
August 27, 1938.
NEWSREELS,
YES
Dear Editor:
One of my favorite
programs is Honey-
moon in New York,
mainly because of
the host, "Big" Ed
Herlihy. Is his the
voice that is often
heard in some of
the newsreels? I've
often wondered about this because his name
appears at the beginning of the news
showing.
Mrs. M. E. S.
Northampton, Pa.
Yes is the answer. Tall, husky Ed is
known to movie-goers as "the voice of
Universal Newsreels." You've also heard
his friendly voice on news broadcasts, and
special events programs on NBC.
HOLLACE CAN
SING, TOO
Dear Editor:
I have listened to
the Saturday Night
Serenade ever since
young Vic Damone
started singing on
the program last
year. I'm a devoted
fan of Vic's and as
such I just naturally
know quite a bit about him. However, I
know nothing about lovely Hollace Shaw
who also is a featured singer on the same
program. She has one of the finest voices
I have ever heard — it's wonderful ! I'm
writing to request some information about
Miss Shaw. Where and when was she
Ed Herlihy
Hollace Shaw
born, her height, and the color of her hair
and eyes.
Miss M. V.
Ridgewood, N. J.
Born in Fresno, California, not so long
ago, Hollace is 5' 8" tall, and as you must
have noticed in our Saturday Night Sere-
nade Broadcast spread (May issue) she is
a blue-eyed blonde. Just in case you missed
that issue, here's another picture, this time
a closeup.
BROADCAST TICKETS
Dear Editor:
My girl friend and I are visiting New
York late this summer and we would like
to see some radio programs but don't know
how to get tickets. Would appreciate any
information you could give us.
Miss M. M.
Pine Bluff, Ark.
For tickets to shows broadcast from ABC,
address your requests at least three weeks
in advance to Guest Relations, 30 Rocke-
feller Plaza, New York. Follow the same
procedure for NBC programs, same ad-
dress. Requests for tickets from CBS should
be sent to Broadcast Ticket Division, 485
Madison Avenue, New York, at least three
or four weeks in advance. You out-of-
towners get a break — guest courtesy cards
can be secured from your local CBS outlet
entitling you to a visit to any two CBS
programs. Some tickets are available at
the CBS and NBC buildings for programs
on the same day.
IN THE
FAMILY?
Dear Editor:
Who is this Ersel
Twing who's heard
on the Charley Mc-
Carthy Show?
Mr. C. M.
Woodbury, N. J.
Don't let this pic-
ture fool you — Pat
Patrick (he's Ersel)
is really a rugged, handsome man, not the
scatter-brained professor, as pictured here,
on the Charley McCarthy Show. (This
show has been summer-replaced by the
Robert Shaw Chorale Sundays, NBC sta-
tions.) In Strawberry Point, Iowa, Pat is
still best remembered as Ersel Kirkpatrick
— a stage-struck youth who ran away from
home at sixteen to join a circus. In the
years since, he has traveled up and down
the land appearing in circuses, the Chau-
tauqua circuit, stock companies and night
clubs as well as radio. Many people have
asked Pat if the character Ersel Twing is
based on a real person. Pat's answer is
that, "He's a little like my father, I think,
and a great deal like my ■ brother who
teaches school in a little town in New York
state." What Pat's father and brother think
about this, we don't know.
Pat Patrick
Mary Eee Taylor
and rebroadcast at
HOUSEWIFE'S
BEST FRIEND
Dear Editor:
Will you please
tell me whether
Mary Lee Taylor is
still on the air? The
station and time?
Mrs. F. J. S.
Delaware, Ohio
Miss Taylor's pro-
gram is heard Satur-
days at 10:30 A. M
2:00 P. M. EDT over 139 CBS stations. The
first half of her double feature show is a
dramatic story of the life of a young mar-
ried couple; the second half offers sugges-
tions for time- and money-saving meal helps
and recipes. A tireless worker, Miss Taylor
spends at least eight hours a day in her
test kitchens directing the work of her
five assistants. She tests all recipes until
they are failure proof and easy to use.
THE MYSTERY
MAN
Dear Editor:
Will you please
give me some infor-
mation about the ac-
tor who plays Roger
Elliot in House of
Mystery on Sundays
on the Mutual net-
work. The stories
are intriguing.
John Griggs
Miss S. E. S.
Philadelphia, Pa.
As the Mystery Man in House of Mystery,
John Griggs finds his early experience tell-
ing stories to children in public libraries
helps him lend a true-to-life air to his role.
Griggs' first radio fob came in the summer
of 1928 when he became a staff announcer
and producer at WGN, Chicago. Since
then, he conservatively estimates he has
made a total of 5,000 broadcasts. John has
been the Roger Elliot of House of Mystery
since January 15, 1945, when the program
first went on the air. And those intriguing
stories are written by free-lance writers.
HILDEGARDE
Dear Editor:
Where, oh where
is Hildegarde? I
haven't been able to
find her at all this
past season and we
miss her.
Mrs. E. E. L.
Memphis, Tenn.
Hildegarde didn't
have a regular air
show this past season. However, she has
appeared occasionally as a guest artist on
some of the network programs. Currently,
Hildegarde is making a personal appear-
ance tour in various parts of the country.
Hildegarde
|ovely Dresses Given to You !
i
w
If there's one thing every woman can
always use, it's a new dress! Espe-
cially when it's beautifully made in
the latest style and the newest colors and
fabrics such as those shown on this page.
How would you like to receive one, two, three
or even more lovely Fall dresses, without pay-
ing a penny of cost? That's right, without pay
ing out a single cent in cash! Well, here's your
chance. It's a remarkable opportunity offered
by FASHION FROCKS, INC., America's
largest direct selling dress company. Our
dresses are bought by women in every state,
and nearly every county. We need new rep-
resentatives right away to take orders in spare time
and send them to us. Any woman, even without
previous experience, can act as our representa-
tive. Whether you are married or single —
WEAR IT with and without
the dickey— a classic with a
double life.
housewife or employed — you can get the chance to obtain
stunning dresses as a bonus— dresses that will not cost you a
penny. In addition, you can make splendid weekly cash
commissions— up to $23 and $25 a week, or more! You
simply take orders when and where you please for
FASHION FROCKS - gorgeous originals of exquisite
fabrics, unbelievably low-priced down to $3.98. For
every order, you get paid in cash on the spot.
| NO CANVASSING- NO EXPERIENCE NECESSARY
V Don't think you need experience. Every dress carries the
famous seal of Good Housekeeping Magazine, and is
sold on a Money Back Guarantee. When women see these
exclusive styles— so different from run-of-the-mill dresses—
so easy to buy without going to crowded stores— they just
can't help but order 2 and 3 at a time! Women can't resist
the alluring new fashions created especially by Constance
Bennett, glamorous movie star and "one of the world's
ten best-dressed women." Miss Bennett's name alone
makes orders so easy, about all you have to do is write
them down. What a pleasant way to take
in steady cash earnings week after week!
Can't you use a handy extra income —
especially with Christmas coming on?
And wouldn't you like your own lovely
dresses without cost? Here's your chance.
Just mail the coupon below!
START EARNING RIGHT AWAY1
So many women are taking this easy
way to make money, there aren't too
many openings left. So don't put it
off. Get started earning extra money
for the things you want. Your Style
Portfolio— with samples of America's
finest fabrics— is absolutely free. Make
up your mind right now— then send the
coupon. There's no obligation, nothing
to pay. Paste the coupon on a post card,
and mail it today!
'S&utett
. . . fascinating star
of stage, screen,
and radio. One of
the world's ten
best-dressed
women. Designer
for Fashion Frocks.
'My designs for these lovely Fashion
Frocks were inspired by the $200 to
$300 dresses that drew so many
compliments when I wore them
myself. I'm so proud to offer them
at a tiny fraction of that cost."
DESK A2039, CINCINNATI 25, OHIO
FASHION FROCKS, INC.
Desk <\2039 Cincinnati 25, Ohio
Yes— I am interested in your opportunity to make money
in spare time and get my own dresses without a penny of
cost. Reserve my Free Portfolio and send me full informa-
tion, without obligation.
Name-
Ad dress-
-Zone-
State-
Dress Size-
C^^^^___^^-XJOTTOlsl\qLASS I CS_FO^^tJlT>N D FASHION!
"In dress designing ... and in
choosing a cigarette, too • • .
EXPERIENCE IS THE BEST TEACHER!"
Dorothy Cox, shown here
in her salon, developed her
keen color sense, her re-
gard for detail, through the
study of portrait painting.
Now she lavishes all her
talents on day-in, day-out,
typically American fashions.
Outstanding achievement?
That classic favorite, the
shirtwaist dress as tailored
by McMullen!
• Dorothy Cox
makes this sun-
seeking dress with
shoulder kerchief.
Notice how beach-
comber plaid cot-
ton becomes a for-
mal fabric in this
undecorated style!
• Palest grey
chambray is
beguilingly
feminine in
this gently
styled shirt-
waist dress
with its
immaculate
white tucked
bosom and
subtly flared
skirt.
City or country, at work or at play — wherever
you turn, you'll find more and more people smoking
Camels. Why? Let your "T-Zone" tell you. (That's
T for Taste and T for Throat.) Let your taste tell
you about Camel's marvelous flavor. Let your throat
discover that wonderful Camel mildness and cool-
ness. See why, with smokers who have tried and
compared different brands of cigarettes, Camels are
the "choice of experience."
According to a Nationwide survey:
MORE DOCTORS SMOKE CAMELS
THAN ANY OTHER CIGARETTE
Three leading independent research
rJr.d thirteen thousand, 6vc hitndr
whiit cigarette the? smsked. The l»r
irganizalions asked one hun-
il and ninety-seven doctors
nd named mosl was Camel.
©»w^
I
TURKISH &• DOMESTIC
BLEND
CIGARETTES
I
Let your "T-Zone" fell you
T for Taste...
T for Throat...
that's your proving
ground for any
cigarette. See if
Camels don't suit
your "T-Zone"
to a "T."
H.J. Reynolds
Tobacco Co.,
Wlnalon-aalom,
N.C.
%jjjpf
RADIO
MIRROR
AJYD TELEVISIO
W
JINX FAl.KENBURG
PADDY
BACKSTAGE WIFE
Complete story in pictures
KEMEMiWHlW
TOM BRENEMAN
by Garry Moore
SHOW THE WORLD
A LOVELIER SKIN!
Everybody's talking about the new Bath-Size Camay. Buying it.
Trying it. Praising it to the skies! Because this bigger Camay
makes every bath a luxurious beauty treatment. Bathe with it every day
of your life— and your skin will be lovelier from head to toe.
And you'll rise from your bath just touched with the delicate,
flower-like fragrance of Camay, the Soap of Beautiful Women!
CAMAY
NOW IN 2 SIZES!
Use Regular Camay for your
complexion— the new Bath-Size
for your Camay Beauty Bath.
QQund/
etf*
says this sparkling junior model
And cover-girl Louise Hyde's crowded
date-life owes plenty to her Ipana smile!
Having a high time is no novelty for
luscious New Yorker, Louise Hyde. A
radiant personality with a radiant Ipana
smile, 20-year-old Louise is a top-flight
Thornton model. And as for dates —
Louise has a calendarful. Her smile is a
magnet for the lads ! For a date-winning
smile of your own, follow Louise's
"model" dental routine: Regular brush-
ing with Ipana Tooth Paste, then gentle
gum massage. Get a tube of Ipana today !
Under the spell of Louise's enchanting smile,
her handsome date, Bill Loock, dreams as he
drives. Clever Louise — to guard that date-bait
smile with Ipana! For more dentists recommend
and use Ipana than any other tooth paste, a
recent national survey shows.
Air-minded. Louise is learning the know-how
of flying. But she doesn't need coaching in care
of her teeth and gums. She knows that firm,
healthy gums are important to sparkling teeth,
a radiant smile. So she never misses her Ipana
dental care!
This is fun, too ! Louise loves Ipana's
livelier flavor — the way it leaves her
mouth refreshed, her breath sweet. Try
Ipana! And follow your dentist's ad-
vice about gum massage. (9 out of 10
dentists recommend massage regular-
ly or in special cases, according to a
recent national survey.)
Product af Brislol-Mym
* * * * *
Don't be
Half-safe!
VALDA
by
SHERMAN
At the first blush of womanhood many mys-
terious changes take place in your body. For
instance, the apocrine glands under your
arms begin to secrete daily a type of perspi-
ration you have never known before. This is
closely related to physical development and
causes an unpleasant odor on both your per-
son and your clothes.
There is nothing "wrong" with you. It's just
another sign you are now a woman, not a
girl ... so now you must keep yourself safe
with a truly effective underarm deodorant.
Two dangers— Underarm odor is a real handi-
cap at this romantic age, and the new cream
deodorant Arrid is made especially to over-
come this very difficulty. It kills this odor
on contact in 2 seconds, then by antiseptic
action prevents the formation of all odor for
48 hours and keeps you shower-bath fresh.
It also stops perspiration and so protects
against a second danger— perspiration stains.
Since physical exertion, embarrassment and
emotion can now cause your apocrine glands
to fairly gush perspiration, a dance, a date,
an embarrassing remark may easily make
you perspire and offend, or ruin a dress.
AM deodorants are not alike — so remember
— no other deodorant tested stops perspira-
tion and odor so completely yet so safely as
new Arrid. Its safety has been proved by
doctors. That's why girls your age buy more
Arrid than any other age group. In fact, more
men and women everywhere use Arrid than
any other deodorant. It's antiseptic, used by
117,000 nurses.
Intimate protection is needed — so protect
yourself with this snowy, stainless cream that
smooths on and disappears. This new Arrid,
with the amazing new ingredient Creamogen,
will not crystallize or dry out in the jar. The
American Laundering Institute has awarded
Arrid its Approval Seal— harmless to fabrics.
Arrid is safe for the skin— non-irritating— can
be used right after shaving.
Don't be half-safe. During this "age of ro-
mance" don't let perspiration problems spoil
your fun. Don't be half-safe — be Arrid-safe!
Use Arrid to be sure. Get Arrid now at your
favorite drug counter — only 39( plus tax.
(Advertisement)
* * • * •
SEPTEMBER, 1948
VOL. 30, NO 4
RADIO
MIRROR
AJVXt TELEVISION
KEYSTONE
My First Audition by Edgar Bergen 25
The World With A Fence Around It by Harriet Van Home 26
Remembering Tom Breneman by Garry Moore 28
I Was The Wife Of The Week by Mrs. Frank S. Pillion 30
My Friend, Lowell Thomas by Wells Church 32
Through The Years With Backstage Wife — In Pictures 36
"The Tremaynes Are At Home" — In Pictures 42
Bride and Groom and A Trout Named Pappy by John Nelson 44
"The Love We Found" by Betty Winkler 46
Traveler of the Month. . .• by Tommy Bartlett 54
Come and Visit Hoagy Carmicbael by Pauline Swanson 56
' .1
Facing The Music by Duke Ellington 10
Johnny Mercer 12
Win In A Waltz 13
What's New From Coast to Coast by Dale Banks 14
William Shirer 21
Minnie Pearl 22
Sam Cowling 23
Inside Radio 66
It's Here 69
Information Booth 72
Stork Facts by Terry Burton 6
Life Can Be Beautiful 8
Between the Bookends by Ted Malone 40
Lazy Day Dinners by Kate Smith 60
WMCA: Three For the Giants 4
KDKA: Richard Karp 16
WFIL: Uncle to 50,000 18
WBEN: Ironic Reporter 20
WINS: Mel Allen 52
Tex-Jinx Productions 48
Heigh-Ho, Video 50
Doorway To Fame 51
AS 10 flP?Ue
Paul and Nicolette — A One Man's Family Novelette by Helen Christy Harris 62
ON THE COVER: The McCrary Family; color portraits by Geoffrey Morris
Editorial Director
FRED R. SAMMIS
Editor
DORIS M. J IIHK.\ N
Art Director
JACK ZASORIN
Managing Editor
EVELYN L. FIORE
Associate Art Director
FRANCES MALY
Television
JOAN MURPHY LLOYD
Staff Photographers:
Hollywood Office : Editor, ANN DAGGETT
UYMIE FINK, STERLING SMITH; Assistant:
Research
TERU GOTO
BETTY JO RICE
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIKHOH, published monthly uv MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS. INC., New fork, N. i.
Ccnenil Business. Edllorl.il :iml Ailvei -Using Olllees. 20.1 F.ist 12nd St.. New York 17. N. Y. Hollywood— Beverly Hills
Office: 321 S. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, California. O. J. Elder, President; Harold Wise. Executive Vice President;
Herbert Drake, Vice President; Joseph SchultZ, Vice President: S, O. Shapiro, Vice President; Ernest V. Heyn. Vice
President: Mevci Dworkin. Secretary and Treasurer; Edward F. Lethen, Advertising Director. Chicago Office: 224
North La Salle St., Leslie H. Gaffe, Mt:r. San Francisco Office: 1613 Russ Building, Joseph M. Dooher, Mgr. Los
Angeles Ollicc: Suilc ilOH. b lo South Olive St., C< ;c Weatlierhy , Mi;r. Charles O. Tciwi II ever Jr., Eastern Adver-
tising Manal'.er. 211.", East -12nd St.. New York 17, N. Y. Reentered as Second Class matter March 1, 11M8. at the Post
Office at New York. N. Y. under the Act of March 3. 1879. Subscription rates: U. S. and Possessions, Canada and
Newfoundland. S2.50 per year. AH other countries $r>.00 per year. Price per copy: 25c In the United States and
Canada. While Manuscrlpls, Photographs and Drawings are submitted at tile owner's risk, every effort will he made
to return those found unavailable If accompanied by sufliciont first class postage and explicit name and address.
Contributors are especially advised to be Rure to retain copies of their contributions: otherwise they are taking un-
necessary risk. The contents of this magazine may not be reprinted ellher wholly or In part without permission.
(Member of Macfadrien women's Croup)
Copyright. 1H4H, by Ma, ladder] Publlcal ioos, Inc. All rights reserved inider International Copyright Convention. All
rlKhts reserved under Pan-American Copyright Convention. Todos derechos reservados segun La Convencton Pan-
atiieilcana de Propiedad Lltcraria y Arflslica. Title trademark registered In U. S. Patent Office.
Printed In U. S. A. hv Art Color printing Co.. Dunellen. M r
c
otnina
%A
WontL
FOR a change of pace and a change
of scene, Grand Slam listeners are
invited to Come and Visit Irene Beas-
ley in October. Change of pace — Irene's
very active life and very heavy sched-
ule contrast with the more leisurely
Hollywood pace of recent "come and
visits." Change of scene — this time it's
apartment life in New York: no swim-
ming pools, no vast acres, no vistas
except that of Central Park. But for
contrast there's Irene's cabana in Con-
necticut, with the whole of the Atlantic
Ocean for her swimming pool.
Double portion of Arthur Godfrey
coming up — an extra-special cover of
Godfrey which all the editorial staff
agreed was "the best picture we've
ever seen of him, anywhere, anytime!"
(For good measure, Janette Davis and
Tony Marvin are on that cover, too.)
Second half of double portion: Octo-
ber's Radio Mirror Reader Bonus de-
parts from daytime serial stories for a
change, and you'll find instead a full-
length life story of Godfrey. That,
alone, is worth the price of admission!
As a companion piece to the Sep-
tember issue memorial to Tom Brene-
man, written by Garry Moore, October
Radio Mirror carries a story about
Garry Moore. With this, a full page,
four-color portrait — the keep-and-
frame kind — of Garry Moore, one of
the busiest men in the business since
he took over Take It Or Leave It, and
one of the most-watched of the younger
Remember when a little street waif
who called herself Chichi broke into
Papa David's Slightly Read Book Shop
one night years ago? That was the
beginning of Life Can Be Beautiful,
and that's where Radio Mirror begins,
too, to tell the story of Life Can Be
Beautiful from that first day up to the
present moment. Four pages of story-
in-pictures — and two of those pages in
full color!
More, too: Dwight Weist, M.C. of
We The People, tells the story of Joe
White. Perhaps you remember him
better as the Silver-Masked Tenor of
radio's earlier days . . . John Nelson
brings readers another heart-warming
Bride and Groom true love story . . . An
"it happened to me" story by one of the
big winners on the grass roots quiz,
R.F.D. America . . . Tommy Bartlett
introduces to readers another of the
journeying Americans whom he meets
on Welcome Travelers . . . and that's,
as they say, not the half of it. All in
October Radio Mirror Magazine, on
sale Friday, September 10.
*
S^is
•Wwh
Young, proud and still pioneering
-that's OKLAHOMA!
You'll look far and wide to find thundering herds,
cowboys and Indians in Oklahoma. But— not so hard
to find what makes it tick. It's the people! The pio-
neer spirit lingers on, in their hearts, in their actions
and efforts to build a sound state.
Blessed in its natural resources — oil down under,
crops and livestock on top — Oklahoma has come a
long way since statehood only forty years ago.
Living in a land of rich harvests, Oklahomans relish
the fine flavor of— ,
Beech-Nut Gum
// has the flavor
you like
asH*
«**
*«**
\ Beech-Nut
^;Sv BEECHIES
^V Candy Coated Gum
—good too—
WW
*»H
0
e*
cH
-K
a*
i/*i
K
/-
111
WILL ROGERS MEMORIAL
at Claremore. Shrine and tomb
of Oklahoma's beloved cowboy'
humorist and native son.
m -nm
£..£*
..,.,.-. ... ..... . .
.*$? if
m*™
TULSA— "Oil Capital of the
World" — home ojthe Interna'
tional Petroleum Exposition.
FOR THE
IN Frankie Frisch, the erstwhile Fordham Flash who holds a
place of honor in baseball's Hall of Fame, newcomer Maury
Farrell, and Steve Ellis, WMCA has a triumvirate of outstand-
ing sports announcers. Frisch and Farrell handle the WMCA
play-by-play broadcasts of all Giant games while Ellis provides
the commentary for the televised games from the Polo Grounds
and conducts the nightly sports show, Giant Jottings, over WMCA.
Frisch's colorful background as a player and manager — he's
been in baseball since 1919 — makes the 50-year-old squire of
New Rochelle the best informed mike-man in the sport. Captain
of the baseball, football and basketball teams at Fordham, Frisch
joined the Giants after being graduated and remained with the
New York team through the 1926 season when he was traded to
the St. Louis Cardinals for Rogers Hornsby. He played with the
rampaging Gas House Gang that included the fabulous Dizzy and
Daffy Dean, Pepper Martin, Joe Medwick and Leo "The Lip"
Durocher for the next decade and was manager from 1933 to
1938. Frisch donned mufti for the 1938 season and became a
baseball broadcaster in Boston for one season. The following
year he took over the command of the Pittsburgh Pirates and re-
mained at the helm through the 1946 campaign. Last year he
returned to the Polo Grounds — where he played his first major
league game — as the chief man in the broadcasting booth. Dur-
ing his 19 years as an active player, Frisch batted .316, played
in eight World Series and was named to two All Star teams.
Farrell is a native New Yorker who went South for his "minor
league" training. A graduate of the University of Miami, his
first radio experience was gained as an announcer at WQAM in
Miami in 1936. Two years later he became director of sports and
special events at WAPI in Birmingham.
Ellis, in a comparatively short time, has established himself as
one of the country's top flight sports broadcasters. Born in Phil-
adelphia, Steve attended school there and later worked his way
through Miami University — as a fight manager, of all things!
Later he joined the staff of the Miami Daily News as a sports re-
porter. He's been identified with New York Giant broadcasts for
several years. Steve broke his "partnership" with Frisch to take
over the television assignment this season.
Tin- Giants' home run champion, Johnny Mize, admires the batting stances of the three broad-
casters who furnish the team's "air power" — Maury Farrell, Steve Ellis and Frankie Frisch.
What Did This Bewitching
Queen Really Want. . . <
the doctor's cure oi\..the Doctor?
Was she really sick ... or did she just want to be alone with the handsome new court
physician? Here's one of the many enjoyable situations in Edgar Maass' sensational new
best seller, THE QUEEN'S PHYSICIAN— the story of a passion that raised a commoner to
power oVer a kingdom. It's yours for a 3c stamp if you join the Dollar Book Club now!
Here Is True
History as Lively and Exciting as FOREVER Amber!
CAROLINE, the beautiful young
Queen of Denmark, was said
to be ill with a fever. So
handsome Dr. Johann Struensee,
newly appointed physician to the
royal household, was summoned to
attend her. From the moment he en-
tered her chamber, to find her alone,
reclining luxuriously, her golden hair
loosened about her head, the doctor be-
gan to doubt the purpose of his mission.
For there was no haughtiness in the
Queen's eyes— only an amused and cal-
culating look. This was not the trou-
bled patient he expected, but a de-
lightful and inviting woman!
What did she really want of him—
the court physician — and a commoner?
How could he dare to read her mind,
with his reputation and his personal
safety at stake?
Neither Caroline nor Johann knew
that their entire future— and the future
of their country— hung in the balance
at that moment.
Set against the glittering background
of the royal court of 18th century-
Denmark, "The Queen's Physician" is
a romantic and thrilling novel. It is
yours for just a 3-cent stamp with
membership in the Dollar Book Club.
The ONLY Book Club That Brings You Best-Sellers for only *1
NO other book club brings you popu-
lar current books by famous au-
thors for only $1.00 each. You save 60 to
75 per cent from regular retail prices!
Yet membership in the Dollar Book
Club is free and requires no dues of any
kind. You do not even have to take a book
every month; the purchase of as few as six
books a year fulfills your membership re-
quirement. In fact, for convenience', mem-
bers prefer to have their books shipped
and pay for them every other month.
More Than 700,000 Families Buy
Books This Money-Saving Way!
Think of it! With book-manufacturing costs
at an all-time high; with most popular current
fiction selling for $2.75 and $3.00 in the publish-
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tinues to bring its members the cream of - the
books for only $1.00 each! And in attractive,
full-size library editions, bound in a format ex-
clusive for members!
Start Enjoying Membership Now
Upon receipt of the attached coupon with a 3
cent stamp, you will be sent a copy of Edgar
Maass' exciting new romance "The Queen's
Physician." You will also receive as your first
selection for $1.00 your choice of any of the best
sellers described in the next column:
• The Golden Hawk by Frank Yerby. Here's even
more color, sweep and excitement than The Foxes
of Harrow — the tale of a bold buccaneer and the
wild-cat beauty he tamed!
• Annie Jordan by Mary Brinker Post. The heart-
warming story of a girl who learned at an early
age that nothing in life comes easy, and who
fought hsr way to happiness.
• Came a Cavalier by Frances Parkinson Keyes.
The new best-selling story of the New England
girl who became a baroness, wife of an ardent
cavalier and modern mistress of a medieval manor.
EVERY other month you will receive the
Club's descriptive folder called The Bul-
letin. The Bulletin describes the forthcoming two
months' book selections. It also reviews about
ten additional titles (in the original publishers'
editions selling at retail for $2.50 or more)
available to members at only $1.00 each. You
may purchase either or both of the two new
selections for $1.00 each, or neither. In any
case, you may purchase any of the other titles
offered for $1.00 each.
SEND NO MONEY
Simply Mail Coupon with Stamp
When you see your copy of "The Queen's
Physician" — which you get for 3 cents — and your
first $1.00 selection; when you consider these are
typical values you receive for $1.00, you will
be more than happy to have joined the Club.
DOUBLEDAY ONE DOLLAR BOOK CLUB, GARDEN CITY, N. Y.
Mail This Coupon
DOUBLEDAY ONE DOLLAR BOOK CLUB
Dept.9MWG, Garden City, New York
Please enroll me as a Dollar Book Club mem-
ber and send me at once "The Queen's Physi-
cian" for the enclosed 3c stamp. Also send me
as my first selection for $1.00 the book I have
checked below:
□ The Golden Hawk □ Annie Jordan
Q Came a Cavalier
With these books will come my first issue of
the free descriptive folder called "The Bulletin"
telling about the two new forthcoming one-
dollar bargain book selections and several addi-
tional bargains which are offered at $1.00» each
to members only.
I have the privilege of notifying you in advance if
I do not wish either of the following months' selec-
tions and whether or not I wish to purchase any of
the other bargains at the Special Club price of $1.00
each. The purchase of books is entirely voluntary on
my part. I do not have to accept a book every month
— only six during each year that I remain a member.
I pay nothing except $1.00 for each selection received
plus a few cents shipping cost.
Mr. )
Mrs. >•
Miss ) PLEASE PRINT
Address
City, Zone
& State
If under 21,
Occupation Age, please. . . .
•Same Price in Canada: 105 Bond St.. Toronto 2
r. . „nA Wr listeners a "new look" at maternity clothes.
Mrs. Lillian Dretzin, of Lane Bryant, gave Terry Burton and her ^^^
By TERRY BURTON
"lTOU'RE going to have a baby." I was so excited and
W thrilled when I heard those words! But there were
■i- so many questions in my mind, I just didn't know
where to start. Here was a real job for a Family
Counselor. When Mrs. Lillian Dretzin of Lane Bryant
appeared as my guest, she completely straightened out
my confused thinking. (Lane Bryant, Inc., are the
stores known country-wide for maternity and infant
apparel, you know.)
The first thing Mrs. Dretzin told me was "Start with
yourself, Mrs. Burton — don't make the mistake so
many other prospective mothers do — that of imme-
diately running out and buying the baby's layette with
no thought for yourself." After looking forward and
planning for my baby's clothes, this was quite a dis-
appointment to me. But then Mrs. Dretzin hastened to
explain that there would be plenty of time to plan for
the baby's outfits, but that it was important to prepare
myself physically for the months ahead. (This was
right after I had had my accident, as you may re-
member.)
Then she went on to say: "And remember, Mrs. Bur-
ton, it's no longer necessary for an expecting mother
to feel self-conscious of her appearance. A modern
mother is proud of herself, especially since today's
maternity fashions are designed to make you look so
pert and pretty."
Of course, I know all about those lovely clothes, but
Stan and I have been watching expenses so closely
that I didn't feel we could afford to buy a wardrobe
that I wouldn't be able to wear again.
Then Mrs. Dretzin came forth with some good news.
"Believe it or not, Mrs. Burton, you can have the 'new
look' in maternity clothes and stay within your
budget!" she said. "Designers are most conscious of
that fact and their prices fit your pocketbook. And
don't forget, the new styles are readily adaptable.
You'll be wearing the same ballerina skirts and smart
box suits and coats long after the baby has arrived."
But that was enough about me! I was so anxious
to find out about the layette that I practically begged
our Family Counselor for information.
"Well, Mrs. Burton, the first things to consider are
the essentials such as diapers and shirts," Mrs. Dretzin
said. I guess my disappointment must have shown in
my face, for she laughed a bit and continued, "Every
young mother wants to buy fancy baby things, but the
layette should be made up primarily of a few and
simple things. Remember, you can focus your atten-
tion on the baby's real needs and still have a charming
layette. Don't worry, the trimmings come later.
"Remember, the layette should be designed to keep
the infant clean, comfortable and safe. In no way
should the garments interfere with the baby's freedom.
It is tiny for such a short time that you don't want
to accumulate a lot of unnecessary things."
Then, as the Family Counselor drew to a close, Mrs.
Dretzin showed me a series of seven pamphlets, pre-
pared by the Maternity Center Association. All that
Mrs. Dretzin had been telling me and much more was
included in the gaily illustrated series. It is something
every young mother will want to have — it has so many
helpful hints and advice. I asked our Family Counselor
if we couldn't offer it to you.
Result: if you send a postal card addressed to Lane
Bryant, Inc., 752 East Market Street, Indianapolis, In-
diana, you'll get your free copy of "Stork Facts."
With the Family Counselor portion of The Second
Mrs. Burton, we want to include topics that are of
interest to you. If you have a problem that you would
like to hear discussed, won't you send it along to
me, c/o Radio Mirror?
Every Wednesday, The Second Mrs. Burton (played by Patsy Campbell) is visited by an authority on some phase of women's-world interest.
Through this department, Terry Burton shares some of these visits with Radio Mirror readers. The Second Mrs. Burton may be heard
each Monday through Friday at 2 P.M., EDT on CBS stations.
way- see ffie astvn/s/u'nj
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Actually women preferred Woodbury for
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LATER-Thanks to Colgate Dental Cream
Always use
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after you eat and before
every dale
"NUMBER PLEASE"
Radio Mirror's Best Letter of the Month
Dear Papa David:
When Mother sent me to a famous
hospital, desperately hoping that some
miracle of surgery could correct my
faulty sight, I dreamed of the great
things I'd do if a successful operation
could be performed. But when three
veteran specialists quietly shook their
heads, my dream castle was swept
away. I came home knowing that I
could never see well, and in from six
to nine years, total darkness must over-
take me.
"What do you plan to do, Will?"
Mother asked one evening.
"I don't know, Mother," I replied. "I
think I may try for a job as time-
keeper at the limestone quarry. Uncle
Jed said there may be an opening there
any day. It isn't far away, I know
many of the men, and I could look at
my time books as closely as I wish."
Feeling a bit timid and uncertain
about the whole thing, I applied for the
job. Fortunately, I knew Mr. Burk,
the foreman.
"Our timekeeper is quitting," I was
informed. "You shall have first con-
sideration."
A week later — on my sixteenth birth-
day— I went to work for the first time
in my life. How proud I was of the
bright new pencils, the timebook with
its leather cover, and the clean white
time-sheets! For eight months every-
thing went along in splendid fashion.
But with stunning suddenness came
the day when I slowly walked home
and told Mother the bad news — the
quarry was going to be under new
management, with a new foreman, and
settm
all employees would have to wear lit-
tle numbered badges on their caps. I'd
never be able to read those numbers!
"I can't tell you a thing — but come
to work tomorrow morning — I'll be
there to help the new foreman get
started," Mr. Burk had said, his voice
carrying a tone of sympathy.
On the following morning, with dread
in my heart, I faced the new foreman.
He was big and brawny, with a stern,
ruddy face. When he saw my time-
book he said, "It'll be numbers instead
of names from now on, kid. Under-
stand?"
I was trying to gather enough cour-
age to explain about my eyes when Mr.
Burk called the new foreman to his
side. They talked for a brief moment.
The new foreman walked to the front
of the rambling tool shed and signaled
the workers to be quiet.
"Men," he said, "I want you all to un-
derstand that the new management has
an important new ruling, effective im-
mediately. Every employee must
know his number and call it out when
the timekeeper says 'Number please.'
Now, if that is clear, we'll go to work."
A lump swelled in my throat as I
hugged the big brown timebook. Days
later, when I had proved that I could
handle the work the foreman ap-
proached me and, smiling, sat down
beside me. When he said, "I think
we're going to hit it off together pretty
well, kid," I instantly saw in my future
— even after blindness arrives — a span
of happy years that shall hold only
brightness and joyous contentment and
beauty, for my brawny comrade went
on to say, "I'm going to see to it, kid,
that you stay here just as long as you
can say, 'Number please.' "
K. D. S.
RADIO MIRROR OFFERS $50 EACH MONTH FOR YOUR LETTERS
Somewhere in everyone's life is hidden a key to happiness. It may be a half-for-
gotten friend, a period of suffering, an unimportant incident, which suddenly illumi-
nated the whole meaning of life. If you are treasuring such a memory, won't you
write to Papa David about it? For the letter he considers best each month, Radio
Mirror will pay fifty dollars; for each of the others that we have room enough to
print, ten dollars. No letters can be returned. Address your Life Can Be Beautiful let-
ter to Papa David, Radio Mirror Magazine, 205 East 42 Street, New York 17, New York.
* •-"■'**
This month's ten-dollar letters follow:
PRICELESS GIFTS
Dear Papa David:
I worked for two years before my
husband died, after a long illness.
When he passed away my two boys,
Mike and Jerry, were four and five,
and my little girl, Patsy, seven.
Patsy was a great help to me. One
day while she was at a neighbor's the
boys, Mike and Jerry, decided they
wanted to do something nice for me.
While trying to wash and put away the
dishes, they managed to turn over
the cabinet and broke every dish in
the house. That evening they met me.
They both- started talking at once each
saying how sorry he was and that it
was his fault. Each was holding out
to me his prize possession. Jerry's
teddy bear, with a fresh ribbon around
his neck. And Mike's little handful
of Mexican coins his father had given
him. I took them in my arms, and felt
as if I were the richest, most blessed
woman in the world.
J. M.
MOST PRECIOUS YEARS
Dear Papa David:
When my four children were small I
sometimes felt their responsibility and
the countless household duties a heavy
burden.
I had at this time to take our oldest
child to a specialist in Minneapolis. On
the way home we sat up all night and
shared our seat with a young priest.
We visited about little things and
then talked of life. I said that I thought
high school days particularly were the
happiest days.
He answered, "It depends on what
you mean by being happy. I'd think
right now while you're being useful,
your life would be at its happiest."
With sudden clarity I saw my sense-
less immaturity. I saw how useful and
blessed I was, because four joyous lives
were entrusted to me; I was shaping
their ideals. These, I have remembered
ever since, are the precious, beautiful
years.
A. H.
Life Can Be Beautiful, written by Carl Bixby
and Don Becker, is heard Monday through
Friday on NBC stations at 12 noon,PDT;
1 P.M., MDT; 2 P.M., CDT; 3 P.M., EDT.
You can say "yes
to Romance
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By DUKE ELLINGTON
* Ilene Woods, of Jack Carson's show, is '
the singing "Cinderella" of Disney's film.
Both Crosbys started in the Bel Air tour-
nament, but only Bob was in at the finish.
10
Duke Ellington's interview with Charlie Spivak was
heard on CKLW, WHAM, XLX, among others.
T the start of the annual golf tournament staged by
the swank Bel Air Country Club in Hollywood it was
Bing Crosby who attracted most of the cameras and
the gallery — but a few days later it was brother Bob
Crosby who played against Randolph Scott for the cham-
pionship. Bob is ranked by many experts as one of the
top amateur golfers in the country.
* * *
Johnny Long's latest Signature disc, "Poor Butterfly,"
looks like another hit in the long-chain of best-sellers for
the left-handed bandleader. Fact is it's doing so well
that Johnny's 1941 discing of that same song for another
company was re-released. Imagine — competing with
yourself on two different record labels!
* * *
That Anita Gordon-Ray Noble platter of "It's A
Most Unusual Day" has started Columbia executives
thinking more seriously of their little starlet. Anita, by
the way, was the cute and unbilled voice on the Buddy
Clark records of "Linda" and "I'll Dance At Your
Wedding."
w * *
You should be seeing a super-fine Jimmy Dorsey band
in the Monogram film tentatively titled "Manhattan Folk
Song." Those of us who've heard JD's new group think
it's the best he's ever had and pretty much the best any-
one could have. Many a band leader drools at the thought
Andy Russell, building up a background for his title role in a new "Cisco Kid" movie soon to
be filmed, made friends with a burro. Joan Davis and Mrs. Russell smoothed the occasion along.
of Jimmy having corralled such stars as Ray Bauduc,
Nappy Lamare, Arnold Ross, Joe Mondragon, Art Lyons,
Al Pelligrini and Art Rando.
* * *
RKO Radio has purchased the screen rights to "Na-
ture Boy," and will feature it in "The Boy With Green
Hair." Pat O'Brien, Robert Ryan, Barbara Hale and Dean
Stockwell star in the film.
* # *
The High School Fellowship Club of Philadelphia pre-
sented a citation to Benny Goodman for his leadership in
breaking down racial discrimination in music.
* * *
Dick Haymes bought "The Big Sky," to produce in-
dependently as a musical movie. Dick may forsake the
Cinema City this Fall to star in Gordon Jenkins' Broad-
way musical, "Manhattan Towers."
* * *
In the few months jazz pianist George Shearing has been
in this country (he's English), he's appeared on the Paul
Whiteman Show, won the Arthur Godfrey Talent Scouts
audition program, won raves at the Onyx Club and the
Three Deuces. Not bad at all — he's only 28 years old and
completely blind.
Andy Russell will play the title role in "Cisco Kid'
Inter-American Studios.
Bj ?%i'
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for
Star Jo Stafford and arranger Paul Weston re-
hearse with one of the NBC Supper Club's last
— and best — guests of the season: Nat "King" Cole.
11
& smile wins
leading role in Little Theater play—
The smile that wins
is the Pepsodent Smile !
Patricia Wolcott, Young Matron, made Little
Theater history in Scarsdale, N. Y., recently
when she was awarded the leading role in the
Fort Hill Players' production, "Years Ago." A
newcomer to the amateur stage, she stole the
show during tryouts for the part of the beautiful
heroine. But Patricia's favorite role is wife and
mother. And her smile, so dazzling behind the
footlights, sparkles in this real-life role, too.
It's a Pepsodent Smile! "I've always depended
on Pepsodent Tooth Paste to keep my teeth
bright," she says. "Besides, I love its taste!"
Wins 3 to 1
over any other tooth paste!
Like Patricia Wolcott, people all over
America prefer New Pepsodent with Irium
for brighter smiles. Families from coast
to coast recently compared delicious New
Pepsodent with the tooth paste they were
using at home. By an average of 3 to 1,
they said New Pepsodent tastes better,
makes breath cleaner and teeth brighter
than any other tooth paste they tried! For
the safety of your smile use Pepsodent twice
a day — see your dentist twice a year!
ANOTHER FINE
LEVER BRO.HERS PRODUCT
Facing the Music
Aohnnu II VU
ercer
12
Anything that can be done with
a song, the Savannah boy can do.
DID you know, statistically speaking
that Johnny Mercer has composed
more than 500 songs, has had more
than 250 of them published and has
scored hits with nearly 60? Among
the hits of course, was his Acad-
emy Award-winning set of lyrics for
"Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe."
Born at Savannah, Georgia, in No-
vember of 1909, Johnny wrote his first
song, "Sister Susie Strut Your Stuff,"
when he was only 15. A little while
later, deciding to be an actor instead
of a tunesmith, Johnny applied for an
audition for the Theater Guild's Gar-
rick Gaieties, but ended up writing a
song entitled, "Out Of Breath And
Scared To Death Of You." That song
served a triple purpose. It was sung
by a lad named Sterling Holloway and
proved to be a fair success; it intro-
duced Johnny to Ginger Meehan of the
show's dancing cast, whom he married
a year later; and it made Johnny de-
cide to concentrate on song writing.
Then he became a singer for "Pops"
Whiteman, and began to write more
and more songs like "Here Come The
British With a Bang Bang" and "Goody
Goody." Whiteman also introduced
Johnny to Hoagy Carmichael. That
meeting resulted in a smash hit known
as "Lazybones." Johnny joined Ben-
ny Goodman's Camel Caravan and was
soon called to Hollywood as a writer
of songs for the films. Among the list
of hits to his credit are "Blues In The
Night," "That Old Black Magic," "Tan-
gerine," "Ac-cen-tchu-ate The Posi-
tive," "Dream," "Skylark," "GI Jive,"
and "I'm An Old Cowhand."
Johnny's writing methods vary, but
he invariably gets amazing results.
Usually, he says, a title or a simple
idea comes first, and then the rest of
the words fall into place. When he
does both tune and lyrics, he writes a
few words, pounds out melody with one
finger and then finishes the words. His
hunt-and-peck pianistics haven't af-
fected his ability to discover talent for
Capitol records. Johnny had a major
part in the discovery of the King Cole
Trio, Hal Derwin, Peggy Lee, Jo Staf-
ford and Margaret Whiting.
At home, Johnny concentrates on the
fatherly talent of enjoying himself with
his wife and two children, young John
and Amanda, who was the inspiration
for the song "Mandy Is Two," which
her dad wrote for her second birthday.
Harry Horlick's MGM
album of American
Waltzes has the answers.
HERE'S your opportunity to win
one of twenty-five big prizes.
All you have to do is take the
clues given in these questions and
pair them with your knowledge
of American waltzes. You can win
a Zenette Radio, MGM Record
albums, and movie passes to your
local Loew's Theater. Below are
eight musical charades. The an-
swers you get should be titles of
the records in the new MGM al-
bum, Harry Horlick's American
Waltzes. Guess the titles and
send them to Facing The Music
along with your reaction to the
American Waltz Album in twen-
ty-six words or less.
To make it really simple, you
need only go to your nearest
record shop, get the album and
pair the titles with the charades.
\ -& f
1 ) What would you think a. certain
piano-playing President's favorite waltz
might be?
2) If you were a Buckeye, you'd prob-
ably waltz to this tune.
3) If you had a dream girl, when
would you see her?
4) They say that love is blind, but if
you've been in love, you'd think your
sweetheart was pretty nice too.
5) We don't believe it, but they say
there are some things people are too
old to do.
6) If you head West at the right time
of the year, you'll know exactly what this
tune is.
7) If you'd like to rid yourself of
someone, you won't mind singing this.
If you're in love, that's another story.
8) This is a popular tune most of us
know real well, but it's nothing you'd
sing to just anyone at all. Sticks and
stones may break people's bones, but
this name would never hurt anyone.
Are you in the know ?
Should the lady be seated —
□ Opposite the other girl
□ At her left
D At her right
If you're ever bedevilled by this doubt . . .-
listen. Table etiquette decrees that ladies
be seated opposite each other. Knowing
for ^certain will de-panic you, next time.
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What's a jilted jane to do?
□ Let his memory linger on
□ Pursue him by mail
□ Get herself a hobby
If last summer's knight beams at someone
else this season — no use toting the torch.
Now is the hour to get yourself a hohby.
Something fun and worthwhile — that keeps
your brain, or hands, or tootsies (why not
learn to tap dance?) active. Fight off
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In business, must she begin with —
□ Good follow-through
□ All the answers
□ A promising career
Your first job — and you're all a-jitter?
The boss won't expect you to be a quiz
kid. But he does demand dependability.
Don't be a promiser. Finish what you start.
Good follow-through is a business must.
And don't try the vacant chair routine on
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BT. N. REG. U. S. PAT. OFF.
13
Pat O'Brien found Keeping Up With Kids too difficult; his son beat him in the parent-
vs.-child quiz of which Benay Venuta is m.c. (Mutual, Saturdays at 9:00 P.M., EDT.)
By
DALE
BANKS
14
Ronald Colman's Favorite Story transcribes
great literature; schools are interested.
WHAT'S NEW
HE Federal Communications Commission reports almost
one hundred withdrawn bids and cancelled permits for
AM and FM stations in the past five months. Uncertain
economic conditions and, maybe, commercial interest in tele-
vision, are believed responsible.
* * *
Out Hollywood way the radio-wise are convinced that much
of the summer buying of radio shows was done with an eye to
signing the shows to Fall contracts. More than half the shows
lined up as "summer replacements" are expected to go their
merry, low-budget way into 1949.
* * *
It's not beyond the realm of possibility that Henry Morgan
and Fred Allen may co-star in a movie. Morgan has made
two guest appearances on the Allen program and the critics
put on such raves that Hollywood perked up its ears.
* * *
Kate Smith is an Honorary Member of the Army Nurse
Corps. She's Colonel Kate Smith, now, the rank having been
bestowed on her in recognition of her wartime contributions
to patients in Army hospitals and her support of the Army's
campaign to have young girls take up nursing as a career. It's
not such a far-fetched thing, either, considering that Kate
was a student nurse at the George Washington University
Hospital before she became a singer.
* * *
This new Mutual show, Three For the Money, just about
tops everything in the matter of giving away that lovely green
stuff. If the jackpot isn't won before the end of the year, it
will have accumulated some $50,000 for some extra-lucky
radio fan.
* * *
Rise Stevens will not be back on the Prudential Hour show
in the Fall. It is rumored that the glamorous songstress re-
fused to take a cut in salary.
That Ronald Colman Favorite Story program is now avail-
able to the public school system in New York. Schools are
taking advantage of the fact that the world's great literature,
vividly dramatized, is accessible to them for study purposes,
via transcriptions. It's a good idea and maybe some other
schools, outside New York, might like to avail themselves of
this opportunity.
Una Merkel is Hal Peary's new Gildersleeve girl
friend; the Judge (Earle Ross, 1.) is jealous.
Penny Singleton and Arthur Lake may do a
Mr. and Mrs. Bumstead series on television.
IFEdDM (CdDASTT to (CdMSTT
Recently, Bill Lawrence, director of the Screen Guild
Players show, held a "worst broadcast" party at his home.
He featured recordings of various shows on which classic
and hilarious fluffs were made. He's been collecting such
records for years.
$ $ 4
Another unique, "collector's item" recording was made
right after the last broadcast of the season by the cast of My
Friend Irma. Cathy Lewis and Marie Wilson did a recording,
for producer Cy Howard and the cast only, in which they did
a screaming burlesque of the regular program.
* * *
Eddie Anderson Rochester will probably identify him
better to you — was originally signed by Jack Benny for a one-
shot appearance. This year, the gravel-voiced comedian
celebrated his eleventh anniversary as a mainstay of the
Benny program. Remarkable, considering that Rochester, as
a character, has never bowed before the convention of the
stereotype Negro in radio.
a * *
It's like father, like daughter in the case of the Whitemans.
Pops Whiteman's talented daughter, Margo, has started to
carve out a radio career for herself with that teen age talent
show called Tomorrow's Tops. In fact, Margo almost seemed
to be shoving Pops over, since her show took over the Mon-
day evening spot of On Stage, America, which was one of
Paul's babies.
$ $ $
This is a big year for Bobby Ellis, talented radio juvenile
actor in Hollywood. Soon after being selected to play Babe
Ruth as a youngster in the nickers, Bobby was asked to do
a disc jockey series for teen-agers and to m.c. a televised
quiz show with bright children of leading movie stars in
the regular panel.
* * *
You know Una Merkel as a comedienne on stage, screen
and radio. But Una got her start as a tragedy queen when
she first arrived in New York to make a break for herself in
show business. Parts weren't too easy to get, so Una helped
herself along by being a photographer's model, most of her
jobs being to pose for illustrations for confession magazine
stories. "I had long hair," she (Continued on page 17)
Eddie Anderson, signed for one show by-
Jack Benny, is now in his eleventh year.
After a too-long absence, Helen Hayes is back
in radio in the new dramatic Electric Hour.
15
T
Richard Karp is a leading musical
figure at KDKA and throughout the
Pittsburgh area. At KDKA's studios
he goes over production problems
with Vickey Corey, Grace Hirt and
Franklin A. Tooke, Program Director.
II
■
16
KDKA's Richard Karp is a musician of engaging
personality and all-around ability who is contribut-
ing much to advancing the cause of music in the
Pittsburgh district.
He was born in Vienna in 1902. His mother, a concert
pianist, won the gold state medal of the Vienna Con-
servatory at 17, and his grandfather, a newspaper
editor, was prominent as a tenor.
Mr. Karp studied violin, viola composition and con-
ducting in Vienna and Dresden and graduated with
honor from the Dresden Conservatory. At 18, he con-
ducted a stock opera company and later became musical
and state assistant at the Dresden State Opera.
His success as a conductor won him the post of con-
ductor of the Dresden Philharmonic Orchestra, in 1923,
as well as that of musical director of the Dalcroze
Festival in Hellerau where he led the Dresden State
Orchestra in the "Midsummer Night's Dream" per-
formances.
From September, 1925, until 1932, Mr. Karp was
associated with the Dusseldorf Opera, and during 1931
he also guest-conducted the Philharmonic Orchestra
concert in Bonn. The following year he was appointed
general music director of Bonn's Municipal Symphony
and Opera. In 1933 he went to Prague as conductor of
the Prague Symphony Orchestra.
Mr. Karp came to the United States in 1937 and was
first introduced to the American music world in 1938
when he went on a transcontinental tour with the
Canadian Hart House String Quartet. Late the same
year he went to Pittsburgh to become a member of the
Pittsburgh Symphony.
He joined the Pittsburgh Opera Society in May, 1941,
as stage director and assistant musical director. When
Vladimir Bakaleinikoff resigned as musical director in
March, 1942, Mr. Karp became his successor. Retaining
the direction of the Pittsburgh Opera, Mr. Karp joined
the staff at KDKA in 1944 as producer and musical
adviser.
Use Karp, his wife is a well-trained musician in her
own right, having graduated from the Berlin Music
Hochschule. She teaches piano, clarinet and theory.
In addition to his many duties both at KDKA and
with the Pittsburgh Opera, Mr. Karp also finds time each
summer to conduct the Adirondack Symphony Orchestra
at Saranac Lake and at Lake Placid.
WHAT'S NEW from
COAST to COAST
(Continued from page 15)
relates, "and was always pictured as
the ruined woman in every story."
Which shows you what kind of type
casting they do for photographs.
You'll be hearing two of Hollywood's
top comediennes, Elvia Allman and
Bea Benadaret, costarring in a new sit-
uation comedy show, "The Simpson
Twins," come the cool weather.
* * *
Penny Singleton and Arthur Lake
are wanted for a West Coast television
series which, if rights can be cleared
and negotiations jell, will be called "Mr.
and Mrs. Bumstead," and find them dis-
cussing in good Mr. and Mrs. fashion
such humorous items as they find in the
day's news.
* * *
On the fall agenda for Vox Pop is
a tour around the world, with programs
to originate from the sites of the Seven
Wonders of the World — not the Seven
Wonders of Antiquity, but the Middle
Ages — including the Coliseum at Rome,
the Great Wall of China, Leaning Tow-
er of Pisa, Catacombs of Alexandria,
Druidical Temple at Stonehenge, Eng-
land, Mosque Tower at St. Sophia in
Constantinople and the Octagon Pago-
da of Nanking.
* * *
In a dog-eat-dog business like the
band business, it's always nice to come
across a story of real friendship. One
of the longest and closest friendships
in the music fields is that between Guy
Lombardo and Tommy Dorsey. They
even carry it to the lengths of sharing
the same office in New York. Latest
data on this Damon and Pythias rou-
tine is that Tommy Dorsey asked the
Music Corporation of America to get
his band a booking in Detroit for the
Labor Day weekend. The reason — Guy
will be there racing for the Gold Cup
and Tommy doesn't want to miss see-
ing that.
* * *
In July Radio Mirror's story on
Twenty Questions, Ruby Sheppard's
picture was accidentally omitted. It's
Ruby who, by holding up a silent plac-
ard, lets the studio audience in on the
words that the Twenty Questions
players are trying to guess. We hasten
to repair our error: see picture below.
* * *
A new Hollywood television firm
headed by Joseph Cotten, movie star,
has finished the first in a series of
fifteen-minute (Continued on page 19)
Ruby Sheppard: important
to Twenty Questions audience.
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17
A pet show can be serious business when it is tied up with Uncle Jim's work as visual educator for the Pennsylvania SPCA.
WIBG's Uncle Jim has more nieces
and nephews than he can count.
18
UNCLE TO over 50,000 children in five years. That's
the story of Uncle Jim Willard of WIBG in
Philadelphia.
Back in 1943, Snellenburg's Philadelphia department
store decided to sponsor Uncle Jim Willard who has
been a conductor of children's radio programs, for 23
years. They then had a combined membership of 2185
children registered in their Superman Tim Club for
boys, and their Joan and Ginger Club for girls.
Today, there are 28,770 boys registered in the Super-
man Tim Club and 23,772 girls in the Joan and Ginger
organization.
How did he do it?
Years of radio experience have given Uncle Jim the
knowledge that makes for programs that appeal to chil-
dren, and adults as well. His 5:15 to 5:30 P.M. daily
program on WIBG includes a Stamp Club that fosters
correspondence with youngsters in other countries; it
includes entertainment by youthful performers of all
ages, as soloists, as well as in groups. He fre-
quently fills WIBG's Studio "A" with entire school
classes, with glee clubs, with juvenile orchestras and
dramatic units to bring listeners in the Philadelphia area
an idea of what the younger generation is doing about
radio. Talent ranges from four to eighteen years of age,
and features everything from recitations to performances
on the zither. There are certain memberships in the
club which children don't care to obtain, but into which
they're entered by their parents. These are the "Thumb
Suckers' Union" — the "Nail Biters' Association" and the
"I Won't Club." Enrollment in these groups invariably
breaks the bad habit, and results in disenrollment, which
is the entire idea.
Willard is also a visual educator for the Women's
Pennsylvania SPCA, in which position he visits many
schools throughout eastern Pennsylvania, with special
programs. On his visits, he often comes upon talent at
school assemblies which add additional entertainment
value to his programs.
His animal stories, both off and on the air, are re-
quested by adult groups as well as by children, which
accounts for additional lectures before parent-teacher,
Rotarian and other organizations. Willard himself,
when asked his age, usually replies that he was a hun-
dred and three, several years ago, but he isn't sure how
many. And backs it up by stating "I'd have to be at
least that old to have over 50,000 nephews and nieces."
But regardless of age, he's spry as many of the young-
sters who call him Uncle. Three flights of stairs mean
nothing to him, and he proves that by running up the
stairs in the WIBG Building, rather than using the ele-
vators. His nightly signoff "Don't forget to wash your
face and hands, clean your teeth, and say your prayers"
has worked far more than the admonitions of anxious
parents in many homes, and because they've told him so,
it has been in use ever since the first time he aired it,
almost 20 years ago.
His whole theory of broadcasting is summed up in
the words "I never worry about whether or not the
program is good — all I ask is that it do some good."
WHAT'S NEW from
COAST to COAST
(Continued from page 17)
video shows on film for a cost of $2,000,
which is claimed to be some $5,000
under the current tab.
This is one for the oldsters. Have you
noticed that Francis X. Bushman, who
used to send the hearts of ladies flut-
tering back in the days after the first
World War, has been appearing more
and more often on radio? Latest stint
we heard was his playing a small part
as a ship's captain on one of the My
Friend Irma programs.
* * *
Look for Mutual to start grooming
a new singing star. Nineteen year old
Delores Marshall was a typist in the
script department of Mutual's Chicago
outlet, WGN, until this past Spring,
when she sought and won an audition
as a singer, and so impressed execs
with her voice that they promptly as-
signed her to a guest shot on a feature
called Voices of Strings.
Did you know that Rudd Weather-
wax came into possession of wonder
dog Lassie when the former owner gave
her up in lieu of paying a ten-dollar
board bill for the dog?
* * *
As if Elliott Lewis weren't busy
enough now, he's got another prospec-
tive show in the works. It's a burlesque
on radio "whodunits," called "The Mis-
adventures of Marcus O'Connor," and
at this writing the program is on the
front burner with a New York agency.
If the deal goes through, you'll be
hearing it this autumn.
* * *
GOSSIP AND STUFF FROM ALL
OVER . . . Professor Quiz is turning
author with a new tome tentatively
titled "Ask Me Another" . . . Holly-
wood expects ABC and the Samuel
Goldwyn studios to hold hands on
television in the immediate future. . . .
A new dramatic series, The Wanderer,
starring Alfred Drake, is due to hit the
airlines soon. . . . The Jack Smith show
will move to the west coast this fall to
give the singer an opportunity to do
film work. . . . Helen Hayes returning
to radio, after a long absence, in a new
dramatic series now titled Electric
Theater. . . . Any radio work for come-
dienne Cass Daley will have to wait
until next year, since she's expecting
the stork in November. . . . Can You
Top This will probably not return to
the air this year. . . . John Brown
signed to play his Digger O'Dell role
in the film version of "Life of Riley."
. . . New contracts have been handed
The Beulah Show, Judy Canova.
Familiar? It should
be: it's Francis X.
Bushman, idol of
"silents," now busy
in West Coast radio.
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19
Joe Wesp once toured northern New York in a stagecoach, for
fun. His tour of Poland was strictly for serious reporting.
w
20
ELL, this is great stuff," said Joe Wesp. "I've in-
terviewed the big ones and the little ones — in
Europe and America — but this is one of the few
times anyone has ever interviewed me. I like it. It gives
me an excuse to talk about myself."
All of which is ironic of the Ironic Reporter because
from this point on it took an elephantine amount of
wheedling, cajoling and coercing to bring forth salient
facts about Joe Wesp. For seventeen years now Joe
Wesp has been a nightly feature on WBEN and he has
been sponsored all that time, with the exception of a
brief few months. It's something of a local — if not a
national — record. The present sage of Buffalo's subur-
ban Clarence was born Milford Wesp, in Buffalo, spent
his boyhood in nearby Hamburg but came back to
Buffalo at the age of 17 to get a job as copy boy at
The Buffalo Evening News.
He held this position long enough to learn to type,
whereupon he walked across the street and told the city
editor of the now-extinct Buffalo Times that he was a
reporter. He became one immediately — the young-
est reporter in Buffalo.
At that time he was fresh from the farm and admits
it. "Why, I didn't even have the hay out of my socks
yet. We didn't get to town very often. When I got the
job I didn't even know where City Hall was." On his
18th birthday, he enlisted in the Army in World War I.
Mustered out a drill sergeant, Joe plunged into news-
papering again. His list of alma maters included the
Buffalo papers mentioned and three others. He was
managing editor of the Syracuse American at 23 and one
time night art editor of the Boston Advertiser.
While Joe Wesp obviously majored in newspaper
work he at least minored in radio work, creeping in
when no one was looking, so to speak, in 1930. This was
because he had an incurable desire to talk to people
without giving them a chance to talk back.
"At that time," he explains, "newscasters were talk-
ing as sweet as sugar. I got sick of honeyed news
reports, so I tried a new angle. I went out on a limb —
analyzing and predicting. But now I've had to change
all that. People are worried all day long by the serious
trend of news events so I give them the funny side."
The robust reporter checks several papers daily for
items on which to comment — can spend all day batting
out a script or can do it in half an hour, as he did once.
Among his most memorable newspaper experiences
were his tour of Poland in 1929 and his horse-and-buggy
trip through Western New York in 1933. He traveled
the length and breadth of Poland and wrote 50 daily
articles for The Buffalo Evening News. His work won
him the Golden Cross of Merit from the Polish Govern-
ment. He wrote daily articles for The Buffalo Evening
News about his horse-and-buggy trip and also about
his tour of the country around Buffalo in a stagecoach.
Joe can't understand how his mother came to name
him Milford but during his Syracuse newspaper days, he
roomed with three other reporters and all four called
each other "Joe." The name stuck to Wesp.
His hobbies are hunting and fishing with his wife,
who's a swell sport, according to Joe. The two regularly
spend vacations together at fishing spots in Canada or
New York State.
Joe Wesp is heard on WBEN Mondays through Fridays
for 10 minutes, starting at 11:15 P.M.
WILLIAM SHIRER
IN 1925, immediately following his
graduation from Coe College, Cedar
Rapids, Iowa, William Lawrence
Shirer shipped as a cattle boat crewman
to Europe "just for the summer."
Twenty years pa'ssed before he was
ready to resettle in the United States.
Upon arrival in France in 1925, he
joined the staff of the Paris edition of
the Chicago Tribune, thus beginning
his career as a journalist. He stayed
with the Herald Tribune until 1932 as
European correspondent, working in
Paris, London, Switzerland and Vienna,
and in the Near East and India as well.
Shirer remembers two years in India
with Gandhi as his greatest experience.
He was there to cover the first great
"civil disobedience movement" against
the British, and counts the late Ma-
hatma as one of his most interesting
friends.
In 1934, Shirer became chief of the
Berlin bureau of the Universal News
Service. At the same time he began
broadcasting for network listeners in
the U. S. and keeping the daily journal
which became the basis for his best-
selling Berlin Diary and End of the
Berlin Diary. For the next five years
he wandered about Europe covering
stories on the preparation of the Nazis
for World War II.
Shirer returned to the United States
in 1940 to assemble Berlin Diary. He
went back to Europe on assignments in
1943, '44, and '45. His experiences
as war correspondent, particularly at
the war guilt trials at Nuremberg, were
compiled from his journal and pub-
lished as End of the Berlin Diary.
Although Shirer was commentator
for many war-time movie shorts, Hol-
lywood will probably never be able to
lure him away from New York. He
thinks the people in the film industry
are "nice but a little crazy," basing his
opinion on two weekends when he was
flown to the film capital to act as ad-
visor on a film. His total working time
amounted to one and a half hours, plus
travel time and sightseeing time of
course, and for this he was paid $10,000.
"And the film was never produced,"
says Shirer.
The Chicago-born commentator is
married to the former Theresa.Stiberitz
of Vienna. They make their home now
in New York City with their two
daughters, Eileen Inga and Linda Eliza-
beth. Mr. Shirer still writes a syndi-
cated news column in addition to his
fiction work. His weekly news broad-
cast heard over the Mutual Network on
Sunday afternoon gives him sufficient
-frpR time for writing.
m « v
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MINNIE PEARL
MISS MINNIE PEARL, queen of the
mountaineer comediennes, who is
heard on Saturdays at 10:30 P.M.,
EDT, on NBC's Grand Ole Opry, was
born down in South Carolina way back
in 1938 — almost ten years ago. But
Miss Sarah Ophelia Colley, whose per-
sonality has been practically usui'Ded
by the madcap character, was born at
Grinder's Switch, Tennessee, near the
quiet little town of Centerville, ". . . too
long back to laugh about."
Ophelia, and the only one who still
calls her that is her mother, because all
her friends have taken to calling her
Minnie Pearl, created her comedy char-
acter entirely by accident.
"Did you ever wish you had the
nerve to say exactly what you wanted
to, at any time, or act any way you
wished, without worrying about what
people thought?" Miss Colley asked.
"Well, Minnie Pearl gives me a chance
to do just that. I know it's corny, but
it's fun."
Ophelia Colley first appeared in pub-
lic as Minnie Pearl, costume and all, at
a very fancy, gay, social function held
at a fashionable hotel in a South Caro-
lina resort town. She'd been there once
before, while she was a coach for ama-
teur talent shows, and had been asked
to help out on this benefit. Her 89-cent
organdy dress, lisle stockings, big, flat-
heeled shoes and beflowered and fruited
straw sailor hat created a riot of laugh-
ter among the evening garbed socialites
as she walked through them to the
platform that evening.
But her public appearances date back
even farther than that. She was the
youngest of five sisters and her sisters
all played with her through her baby-
hood as though she were one of their
dolls. The result — her sisters had her
performing for the family and friends
by the time she was able to walk.
When she finished high school, her
parents decided to send her to Ward-
Belmont, a leading Southern finishing
school. She majored in elocution and
dramatics, telescoped four years' work
into two and returned to Centerville to
teach in the local school.
But one day in 1940, the Tennessee
Bankers Association had an all day
session near Centerville and Minnie
Pearl was engaged to help liven up the
program. News of her unique and
humorous act was carried back to Nash-
ville and a week or two later she was
hired by station WSM for a local show
on the 'Saturday night Grand Ole
Opry. In 1942 she went on the NBC
network, where her antics have become
a beloved part of the program.
SAM COWLING
FUN'S FUN, but try clowning before
nine o'clock in the morning, some-
time. Ourselves, we can't quite
manage it. But Sam Cowling, the laugh
getter on the Breakfast Club (ABC,
Monday through Friday at 9 A.M., EDT)
has no trouble whatsoever. He's a mas-
ter heckler and practitioner of the dead-
pan school of comedy and he can turn it
on and off at will, morning, noon, or
night.
Cowling was born on January 8, 1914,
in Jeffersonville, Indiana. In high
school, he and two chums formed a trio,
in which Sam played the ukulele and
sang tenor.
All this had nothing to do with a
career, then. Sam was mainly interested
in designing and' erecting great and
beautiful buildings. But he was grad-
uated from high school in the depres-
sion year of 1932. a year when the world
had a lot more use for a little light
entertainment than it did for architects.
Having made this big discovery, the
singing" trio hied itself to Louisville.
There, known as The Three Romeos,
they made regular broadcasts for a few
months and then moved on to try their
luck in Evansville and Cincinnati. But
those were tough days for young hope-
fuls. They scurried back to Louis-
ville and, somehow, landed a morning
hour program.
In 1935, Sam met the girl, and they
were married shortly afterwards. A
year later, while marooned in a ma-
ternity ward for three days during the
Ohio River flood in 1937, Sam's wife
presented him with a son. The proud
parents almost named the baby Noah,
but as the flood subsided, they decided
to name him Sam, Jr. Later, another
son, Billy, joined the family.
In that same year, Sam moved his
family to Chicago, and the Romeos soon
sang their waj? into a leading network
. show. Since then the trio has appeared
regularly on various variety shows, and
Sam has gained fame as chie'.' heckler
and stooge on the Breakfast Club. His
inspired nonsense has become known
from coast to coast and many of his
quotations from "Sam's Almanac of
Fiction and Fact" have become national
catch-phrases.
Some of his most hilarious comedy
never reaches the air. One piece of
business he pulls every morning comes
during that break in the show when the
announcer gives the station break. As
the announcer says, "This is the Ameri-
can Broadcasting Company," Cowling
leaps to his feet like a maniac and yells,
"He said that yesterday." And the au-
dience rolls in the aisles.
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AUDITION
By EDGAR BERGEN
"All wrong for radio," said the big executive
who first auditioned Edgar and Charlie, which
shows how wrong even a big executive can be.
CHARLIE and I were working the Chez Paree
in Chicago, but we wanted to get into radio.
The quickest way, I figured it, was to inter-
est advertising agencies. So I sent out a batch
of telegrams modestly worded: "Come and see
my act at the Chez Paree if you want a man
with ten years' successful experience in vaude-
ville and nightclubs, who can write comedy and
play it."
Nothing happened.
So I went to call on them, in person.
The first interview was a little disconcerting.
"You write your own stuff? We have dozens
of people who write good comedy."
"Ventriloquist?" shrugged the second. "It's
probably all right to be one, but not on radio."
"You work with an audience? That's no
good," another uttered his pronouncement. "I
disagree," I ventured timidly. So I was out.
Then somebody pulled some wires and the
really big chance came. Charlie was goggle-
eyed. I was practically speechless — which went
for both of us, of course! A fellow in charge of
new talent at NBC was going to give us an
audition. We sent our pants out to be pressed,
got haircuts (at least, Charlie did), and pre-
sented ourselves promptly at the appointed
hour. We did our stuff.
"That act will never go on radio," Mr. Big
said bluntly. "The jokes aren't funny. The voice
isn't right. The diction is dreadful."
"Nuts to you," muttered Charlie, and he held
his thumb in the region of his nose as we turned
and went, we thought forever.
But forever is a long time. In this case, it
turned out to be a little less than six months.
By then we were back in New York, doing our
act in the Rainbow Room at Radio City, and
when Elsa Maxwell threw one of her famous
"400" parties for Noel Coward, Charlie and I
"entertained." Then Elsa went on Rudy Vallee's
radio show and when she began to talk about
the way she fined up her party talent, Rudy
suggested she introduce us on one of her NBC
radio parties.
They asked us to come back a second week,
and a third.
"Maybe we should get a little more money,"
I suggested mildly, at this point.
"Maybe," Charlie broke in. "Positively. Or
I quit the act, and then Bergen will have to do
all the talking."
It wasn't until we had been on the Vallee
broadcasts about four months that I woke up to
what was happening. A letter came addressed
merely "Edgar Bergen, New York" — and I
got it.
"We're famous, Bergen," Charlie chortled.
"Don't be silly, Charlie," I squelched him.
But I was feeling pretty good myself. We'd done
it, at last.
And Mr. Big, who gave us the brush-off on
our First Audition — what became of him? Why,
he got to be a Vice President, of course!
25
Please note these old familiar
words: The sentiments herein
expressed are not necessarily those
of the editors. Mow. what
ahont the sentiments of our re;mVrs?
NOT so long ago, on a program called
House Party, Art Linkletter con-
ducted a week-long search for "the
most recent mother." It was a modest
stunt, but it demonstrated with fright-
ening clarity just how far people will
go to participate in radio's current give-
away craze.
First day's tour of the studio audi-
ence uncovered a woman whose bab\
was a month old. Next day, it was a
mother with a baby three weeks old
Every day, Art found the baby a little
younger, the mother a little paler Or;
Friday, final day of the search, a younu
woman arrived at the studio in a wheel
chair with a nurse in attendance. She
had just left the hospital. Her husband
had gone on home with the red, wrin-
kled infant. To this dauntless lady
went the shiny, tomb-sized refrigerator.
And across the land, many a house-
wife looked at her outmoded, too-small
ice chest and assured herself, "I'd have
done the same thing — for a new refrig-
erator!"
A decade ago the average American
dreamed (but never dared hope) that
he might someday inherit $10,000 from
his long-lost uncle in Australia. Today
the dream has grander proportions.
And the uncle in Australia has been
replaced by any one of 20 national
programs that give away a king's ran-
( som in treasure.
• Specifically, radio is now giving away
seven million doll; rs per season in cash
and merchandise Network prizes alone
NOW fOR
THl GRAND TRUE J^,.^
^3,285,472.27 CASH A
WHAT'S YOUR J
, MIDDLE NAME? J
k ^ S'
^
2b
average $84,000 a week. Out-ot-town
stations, with their own local give-
aways, bring the jackpot up to $165,000.
Since this list was compiled, the Mu-
tual Network has leaped into the fray
with a program whose jackpot will be
$50,000. "It's all a bribe," sputter the
critics of radio. "Only way they can
get listeners is to give away things!"
This, we know, isn't strictly true. A
few audience participation shows are
first-rate entertainment in themselves.
And they'd have a healthy Hooper rat-
ing if they gave away nothing but old
box-tops.
Alas, too many others have no enter-
tainment merit whatsoever. They lure
listeners with promises of grand prizes,
but let weeks and weeks drag on before
the only worthwhile ones, such as a car
and a piano, are actually given away.
Moreover, one needn't show a gram
of intelligence to win all on some of
these sessions. Much depends on luck,
the prompting of the studio audience
and whether or not the quizmaster
takes a fancy to you. Sometimes the
hints are so broad it's a wonder the
FCC doen't come down in wrath and
take awav the station's license.
'BICE
For the law specifically bars pro-
grams that bear any resemblance to a
lottery. If a contestant wins a prize
without a show of skill or intelligence,
couldn't it be said that he won by
chance? And games of chance are for-
bidden. So there you are.
It's no wonder that comedians have
taken to satirizing the whole give-away
business. "Did you folks like the $1,000
bills you found on your seats when
you came in?" Fred Allen asked his
studio guests recently. Truly, it wasn't
a far-fetched query. Not as radio goes
these days.
However, take the stunts on Truth
or Consequences. They are handled
with taste and showmanship. There
is never a huge give-away, such as the
Miss Hush contest or the Walking Man
stunt, that doesn't have a charity angle.
Ralph Edwards has raised hundreds of
thousands of dollars for cancer re-
search, for the heart fund and The
March of Dimes. Ralph would give
listeners a good show whether he had
anything to give away or not. This puts
Truth or Consequences in the minority
among give-away programs. Most of
them are, at best, mediocre.
By
HARRIET VAN HOHNE
Harriet Van Home's column, Radio and
Television, appears daily in the N. Y.
World Telegram
It was thought for a time last year
that give-away shows were on the
wane. That their day was mercifully
over and we could go back to enter-
tainment for its own sweet sake.
Then ABC came along with Stop
the Music! It combined the flashier
features of the juke box, the slot ma-
chine, bingo and an old program called
The Pot o' Gold. It had a "mystery
tune" for added excitement, and the
grand prize winners were not the
studio guests but people on The Great
Outside who were called on the tele-
phone.
In less than a month rival networks
had programs on the air that were
almost carbon copies. All used the
telephone as a fulcrum. All suffered
from the same noisiness. All were
guilty of radio's newest sin: bribing
listeners. Offering prize bait instead of
entertainment. Unfortunately, it's a
trend that will abate only when listen-
ers shove their dials away from these
bargain basements and tune in a half
hour of good music or drama.
Though at least six programs now use
the telephone gimmick, statistics show
that the average family is listening
against tremendous odds. Precisely,
the chances are one in 22 million that
you will be called by a jolly quizmaster
who wants to know how many feet
make a biped. A radio statistician fig-
ured that out simply by counting the
phones in the USA.
People who (Continued on page 96)
27
I
Please note these old familiar
words: The sentiments herein
expressed are not necessarily those
of the editors. Now. what
ahont the sentiments of our readers?
NOT so long ago, on a program called
House Party. Art Linkletter con-
ducted a week-long search for "the
most recent mother." It was a modest
stunt, but it demonstrated with fright-
ening clarity just how far people will
go to participate in radio's current give-
away craze.
First day's tour of the studio audi-
ence uncovered a woman whose bab\
was a month old. Next day, it was h
mother with a baby three weeks old
Every day, Art found the baby a little
younger, the mother a little paler On
Friday, final day of the search, a younv
woman arrived at the studio in a wheel
chair with a nurse in attendance. She
; had just left the hospital. Her husband
had gone on home with the red, wrin-
kled infant. To this dauntless lady
went the shiny, tomb-sized refrigerator
And across the land, many a house-
wife looked at her outmoded, too-small
ice chest and assured herself, "I'd have
done the same thing — for a new refrig-
erator!"
A decade ago the average American
dreamed (but never dared hope) that
he might someday inherit $10,000 from
his long-lost uncle in Australia. Today
the dream has grander proportions.
And the uncle in Australia has been
replaced by any one of 20 national
programs that give away a king's ran-
som in treasure.
h Specifically, radio is now giving away
seven million doli: rs per season in cash
and merchandise Network prizes alone
10
tffc a:EVC£
Wot
/NOW TOR
THl GRAND PRIZE
*3,285,472.27 CASH
WHAT'S VOUR
MIDD1X NAMU?
Uld it
average $84,000 a week. Out-ot-town
stations, with their own local give-
aways, bring the jackpot up to $165,000.
Since this list was compiled, the Mu-
tual Network has leaped into the fray
with a program whose jackpot will be
$50,000. "It's all a bribe," sputter the
critics of radio. "Only way they can
get listeners is to give away things!"
This, we know, isn't strictly true. A
few audience participation shows are
first-rate entertainment in themselves.
And they'd have a healthy Hooper rat-
ing if they gave away nothing but old
box-tops.
Alas, too many others have no enter-
tainment merit whatsoever. They lure
listeners with promises of grand prizes,
but let weeks and weeks drag on before
the only worthwhile ones, such as a car
and a piano, are actually given away.
Moreover, one needn't show a gram
of intelligence to win all on some of
these sessions. Much depends on luck,
the prompting of the studio audience
and whether or not the quizmaster
takes a fancy to you. Sometimes the
hints are so broad it's a wonder the
FCC doe-n't come down in wrath and
take away the station's license.
For the law specifically bars pro-
grams that bear any resemblance to a
lottery. If a contestant wins a prize
without a show of skill or intelligence,
couldn't it be said that he won by
chance? And games of chance are for-
bidden. So there you are.
It's no wonder that comedians have
taken to satirizing the whole give-away
business. "Did you folks like the $1,000
bills you found on your seats when
you came in?" Fred Allen asked his
studio guests recently. Truly, it wasn't
a far-fetched query. Not as radio goes
these days.
However, take the stunts on Truth
or Consequences. They are handled
with taste and showmanship. There
is never a huge give-away, such as the
Miss Hush contest or the Walking Man
stunt, that doesn't have a charity angle
Ralph Edwards has raised hundreds of
thousands of dollars for cancer re-
search, for the heart fund and The
March of Dimes. Ralph would give
listeners a good show whether he had
anything to give away or not. This puts
Truth or Consequences in the nunonty
among give-away programs. Most of
them are, at best, mediocre.
By
HARRIET VAN HORN!
Hiirriet Van Home's column, Railio and
Television, appears daily in llie N. Y.
World Telegram
It was thought for a time last year
that give-away shows were on the
wane. That their day was mercifully
over and we could go back to enter-
tainment for its own sweet sake.
Then ABC came along with Stop
the Music! It combined the flashier
features of the juke box, the slot ma-
chine, bingo and an old program called
The Pot o' Gold. It had a "mystery
tune" for added excitement, and the
grand prize winners were not the
studio guests but people on The Great
Outside who were called on the tele-
phone.
In less than a month rival networks
had programs on the air that were
almost carbon copies. All used the
telephone as a fulcrum. All suffered
from the same noisiness. All were
guilty of radio's newest sin: bribing
listeners. Offering prize bait instead of
entertainment. Unfortunately, it's a
trend that will abate only when listen-
ers shove their dials away from these
bargain basements and tune in a half
hour of good music or drama.
Though at least six programs now use
the telephone gimmick, statistics show
that the average family is listening
against tremendous odds. Precisely,
the chances are one in 22 million that
you will be called by a jolly quizmaster
who wants to know how many feet
make a biped. A radio statistician fig-
ured that out simply by counting the
phones in the USA.
People who (Continued on page 96)
TOM BRENEMAN
By GARRY MOORE
28
WIHEN Radio Mirror first asked that I write
about Tom Breneman, I was a little afraid
to tackle it.
"There's nobody I'd rather talk about," I said,
"but after all, I was never fortunate enough to
be among Tom's intimate circle. I'd feel pre-
sumptuous. . . ."
But even as I was speaking, it came to me
suddenly that I did know Tom very well indeed,
that in a strange and wonderful way I had been
becoming better acquainted with him day by day.
And it is this that I'll try, humbly and grate-
fully, to tell you about . . . how I, one among his
millions of admirers, know that the spirit of Tom
Breneman lives and his soul goes laughing on.
The world of radio, as you know, is a busy
place, ruled by the clock. For a long time my
acquaintance with Tom was mostly that of an
interested listener to his phenomenal Breakfast
in Hollywood. Very few performers who worked
my late-at-night hours enjoyed the privilege of
frequent contact with a man whose work hauled
him from bed before dawn, sent him back shortly
after twilight. When Tom was hitting the pillow
out at his Encino home, most of us were warm-
ing up for our own encounters with the mike.
I listened, when I could, to Tom's show. Who
didn't? It was the talk of show business. Here
was a guy who, as Hedda Hopper once put it so
neatly, had "parlayed a dame's hat, a hothouse
orchid, and a gift of gab into a national institu-
tion." Radio's wiseacres had said, almost to a
man, that the idea hadn't a chance. But there it
was, heading the list of daytime shows for nation-
wide popularity, tops on the polls, first in the
hearts of the nation's housewives old and young,
and rating high with the male population as well.
Skeptics, who couldn't believe it at first, began
to listen tentatively and then became Breneman
"converts." Like my friend Durante, he had a
million of 'em — plus other millions who never
needed "converting."
My actual meetings with Tom, when I look
back on them, tell me why this had to be so.
What he gave on the air was more than fun,
zaniness, and laughter. It was warm, human
sympathy. It was friendliness. And he gave you
that in person, too.
I first met him backstage at some benefit show
a few years ago. A big fellow he was, with dis-
tinguished silvering hair, saddish eyes that still
carried a twinkle in their depths, and a rather
tired expression. Tired, that is, until he smiled,
which he did often and freely. "Hiya, Garry," he
said, as if we'd known each other a long time.
"Say, I like your show."
Words like that are always sweet music to a
performer, especially when they're said with
Tom's sincerity by such a veteran as he was.
Whenever we ran across each other after that,
it was "Hiya, Garry" and "Hiya, Tom," easy and
friendly.
The last time I talked to him it was by tele-
phone. Tom was going away with the lovely Mrs.
Breneman to Arizona for a badly needed rest,
and I was among those who were to "guest" for
him during his absence. But I had fallen ill, and
my illness had become worse. Now it looked as
if I'd not only be unable to "sub" for Tom but
would have to ask help (Continued on page 89)
The people who work in radio,
and those who listen to it, will long
remember Tom Breneman. For
he gave away generously some of
the world's most precious goods:
kindness, friendship, laughter
I
\
I WAS THE
L*ss than two hours after leaving Lackawanna, N. Y., the
Pillions were at La Guardia, ready for the dining-out, theater-
going holiday the Betty Crocker program had planned.
By MRS. FRANK S. PILLION
Special pan for Mrs. Pillion's noodles was designed
by her husband, bnt they explained to Magazine of
the Air's Susan Adams (c.) that it's just an "extra."
I HAVE just finished three days in New York as the
guest of The Betty Crocker Magazine of the Air, and,
because the whole thing has been such fun, I think
that maybe all of those who follow Betty Crocker's
broadcasts every weekday morning would like to know
exactly what happens when you are chosen the Home-
maker of the Week and are invited to come to New
York and appear on her Wednesday broadcast.
For those who are not familiar with the show, I had
better explain that the Homemaker of the Week is
chosen on the basis of letters about their wives written
to Betty Crocker by husbands in her audience. In my
case, I did not know what was in Frank's letter until
he read it on the air. I did not even know that he had
written it until one afternoon there was a ring at the
door of our home in Lackawanna, New York, and a
nice-looking young man identified himself as a repre-
sentative of the Betty Crocker show.
I thought he was making some kind of an audience
survey until he asked if I had any objection to going
on the air. Then I realized that Frank must have written
a prize-winning letter, without saying a word to me
about it. I couldn't wait for him to get home so I could
find out what he had said about me.
But he wouldn't tell me. He just laughed and said,
'P'tom <& 6u4&<z*tcC<i, tniiute fo 6i& wife.
Hzme
>cr
After Frank Pillion's winning letter was read, Mrs. Pillion demonstrated her chicken-and-noodle recipe step by step
before the hungry eyes of M.C. Win Elliot, Mr. Pillion, home economist Elsie Busman, (r) and the studio audience
at Betty Crocker's Magazine of the Air. (Program time is Monday through Friday, 10:30 A.M. EDT, on ABC stations.)
"I've forgotten. You told me to write to Betty Crocker,
so, being the properly obliging husband that I am, I
did it."
"I never did tell you to write to Betty Crocker!" I
protested. "I wouldn't be so conceited!"
Then I remembered.
Frank is extremely fond of a "Chicken Paprikash"
that I make. He went on about it so enthusiastically the
last time I served it that I said,
"Don't tell this to me — tell ft to Betty Crocker so she
can tell the world."
It was just something you say in fun, but it gave him
an idea. He wrote the letter at his office, dropped it in
the mail and said nothing whatever about it. And I
thought my husband had no secrets from me!
The next thing that happened was a long distance
call from New York. A nice voice asked if I would be
at home at 4:30 to talk with Bill Doughten.
"You have the wrong number," I said firmly. "I do
not know a Mr. Doughten."
When they insisted that they had the right number, it
flashed through my mind that it might be one of my
husband's army friends, so I said,
"Would you mind telling me who Mr. Doughten is?
He may want Mr. Pillion, not Mrs. Pillion."
"It's Mr. Doughten, Program Supervisor of the Betty
Crocker Magazine of the Air," they said. "Can you talk
at 4:30?"
With that I woke up.
"By all means!" I said because I suspected that they
would not be calling all the way from New York unless
they were going to ask us to go on the air.
I was delighted. We had been at home quite closely
since Frank came out of the army. We were ready for a
holiday, and what could be more entertaining than going
to New York and meeting the people I had been listening
to on the air? Everyone always wonders what the
people on favorite programs really are like. Besides, I
always had been curious to know if Betty Crocker had
a real kitchen in front of her microphone or if they
were just acting out that part of the program.
I called Frank right away.
"Try to get here," I asked him. "And bring that
letter! Now I have to see it."
The call came through on the dot. Mr. Doughten
wanted to know if it would be convenient for both of us
to be their guests in about two weeks. That gave us
easy time to arrange Frank's business so he could be
away, so the date was set and three other nice voices
came on the line: Susan (Continued on page 79)
WayoftHe o£ t6e rfin ti4te*ter& teained <t tecifie — fat <fc ^ucce^cU tH*wUa$e
31
Mrs. Thomas gets a capsule trip to Iraq
as Lowell Jr., planning a visit there with
an economic mission, is briefed by Lowell Sr.
A snapping-turtle trap for Quaker Lake.
In his special corner of
New York State, world -wanderer
Thomas is really "at home"
By WELIS CHURCH
Director of News Broadcasts on CBS, on which
Lowell Thomas is heard Mon.-Fri., 6:45 P.M. EDT.
THERE are a lot of things I remember
about Lowell Thomas, and one of the
most vivid is the first taxi-ride I had
with him. It was a dark night and we
were on a dark 'corner. We got into
the first taxi that came along and
Lowell said, "Take us to the station,
please." There was an instant reaction
from the driver. Without turning
around he announced, "I'd know that
voice anywhere. You're Lowell
Thomas."
"Happens all the time," Thomas
grinned at me. "Proves one thing: I'll
never commit a crime — I couldn't stay
hidden for ten minutes!"
Walking around with Lowell in the
daytime, I've noticed his face is recog-
nized almost as fast as his voice —
From a completely-equipped studio behind the garage, Thomas can
broadcast as conveniently as though he were at CBS in New York.
Announcer Nelson Case (center) comes up to Hammersley Hill to be
on hand for both broadcasts (6:45 and 11 P.M.). Electra Ward, one
of Thomas's secretaries, times the show, keeps material straight.
32
2,000 acres of Dutchess County, in upper
New York State, go with "Hammersley Hill,"
which Thomas purchased two years ago.
T
In his special corner of
New York State, world-wanderer
Thomas is really "at home"
By WELLS CHURCH
DlrMoi „i n,„, Broadenu
I ow-.ll I hon iai >■ hi Jul Mi. n I-
Ti IKItE arc a lot of things I remember
about Lowell Thomas, and one of the
most vivid is the first taxi-ride 1 had
with him. It was a dark night and we
were on a dark 'corner. We got into
the first taxi that came alone, and
Lowell said, "Take us to the station,
please." There was an instant reaction
from the driver. Without turning
around he announced, "I'd know that
voice anywhere. You're Lowell
Thomas."
"Happens all the time," Thomas
grinned at me. "Proves one thing: 111
nevet commit ., crime— I couldn't stay
hidden for ten minutes!"
Walking around with Lowell in the
daytime, I've noticed his face is recog-
nized almost as fast as his voice—
From a complelelyequipped studio behind the garage, Tl„,
broad™., u. conveniently as .hough he were a. CBS in New York,
^nouacer Nelson Case (center) coraes up ,o Hammersley Hill lo Ik
•"> hand tor h„,h broadcasts (6:45 and 11 P.M.I. Electra Ward, one
o Thomas', secretaries, limes .he show, keeps material straight.
Mrs. Thomas lifts Winkie out of reach of poodle Boots
and spaniel Roger — though of course they're all friends !
Both Lowells, Jr. and Sr., keep 16 mm. movie records of
all their trips, which adds up to quite a film library.
Last-second news is teletyped into the garage-studio.
thanks to a dozen years of having it on every Fox
Movietone Newsreel. "Gosh, Lowell Thomas looks wor-
ried today — think he's heard some new war rumors?"
strangers mutter to each other as they pass him on the
street. Or else they gloat, "Hey, look how happy Thomas
looks today. There'll be good news tonight!"
All of this is the natural result of the longest con-
tinual record in radio history: eighteen years of broad-
casting, five days a week, at the same exact time (6:45-
7:00 PM, EDT. No vacations, no holidays — when he
goes anywhere, a microphone goes with him. Some of
it comes also from twice-a-week newsreel commentary,
and from hundreds of travel shorts and commercial
movies which Thomas also narrates. Yes, his name and
voice are known everywhere. I should . know — as a
friend of his, I spend half my time answering questions
about him. I finally decided to get him down on paper
for posterity — and to settle a few wrong guesses while
I'm at it!
For instance, you think, don't you, that Thomas is a
stuffed shirt — because his voice is so superbly modu-
lated? Wrong. The only shirts he cares about are loud
and raucous sports ones, of which he has a bigger collec-
tion than Bing Crosby. You think, also, that Thomas
lives next door to CBS — and that all he does is face a
mike? Wrong again. He lives two hours from New
York City in a sprawling colossus of a country house
34
Thomas is very active in community affairs in the Quaker Hill section where Hammersley
Hill is located; he lectures frequently at the Country Club to students, teachers and friends.
with his wife and son — and with his own private broad-
casting studio 200 yards from his front porch. You
think that he's an authority on just one thing, radio?
Wrong once more — Mr. T. is a famous explorer of
Africa and India, a traveler who has seen every corner
of the world, the author of forty books, a ski expert . . .
and in his past he has been everything from a gold
miner to a college professor. He's also had a prodigious
number of "firsts" — first man to broadcast from an air-
plane, from a ship at sea, from a submarine, and from
a helicopter. Further, he's the first commentator who
appeared on television. Convinced?
But you'd be convinced of anything if you visited his
2000-acre estate called "Hammersley Hill," where he
lives and works. Certainly I was convinced when I
first visited there, about a year ago. To start with, I
will never forget my astonishment when I walked into
his living room for the first time to meet my fellow
guests — who were ex-President Herbert Hoover, Gen-
eral Jimmy Doolittle, and the famous explorer Roy
Chapman Andrews! I might add that I was further
astounded by Lowell's twenty-four-year-old son Lowell
Jr., who is no mean explorer himself. He was home
from Dartmouth College that weekend, and he sat
around matching notes with General Doolittle and Mr.
Andrews on such diverse places as Brazil, Alaska, and
Turkey the way you and I would match notes on the
corner drug store. Pretty Mrs. Thomas joined in a lot
too, because she's been around the world several times
with her busy husband.
But fascinated as I was by the unusual guests and
conversation, I was just as dumbfounded over the estate
itself — most of whose 2000 acres Lowell showed me
from horseback the next morning. "I'm always outdoors
and exercising every morning, winter or summer," he
told me as we rode. "I discovered long ago that there's
no such thing as bad weather if you're dressed for it!"
So, mounted on Lowell's horses, we trotted up to a
ski lift and a ski chalet. "Yes, they're my own," he
admitted. "I built them because I love skiing — and now
all my friends are up here skiing as much as I am." My
jaw was still hanging at the idea of a private ski lift
and chalet when Lowell guided me to a sparkling
ninety-acre lake. "And this is my own lake, where I
swim every morning in summer — along with all my
friends," he said with the pride of ownership.
We spent the whole morning looking at the endless
buildings and woods on his beautiful place. In the after-
noon neither I nor anyone 'else in the household saw
Lowell at all. He was hard at work in his four-room
studio building, abetted by his four secretaries, a switch-
board, a film-cutting room and a projection room for
showing movies — these last two for his news-reel and
travelogue film activities. Later (Continued on page 97)
35
I
* . \
When Mary came to New York from Iowa, she was a stranger in the city, lonely and confused. She tried unsuccessfully
to get work as an actress, but without contacts or experience the way was so difficult that she finally accepted a stenographic
job in a theatrical agent's office. It was, for the time being, the closest she could get to her dream. And she was never sorry,
for it was here that, one day, she met Larry Noble, one of America's handsomest actors, idol of a million women.
BarkMagr Wife, roarelvrd aad prodared by Frank aad Anne Hummtrl, i* heard Monday through Friday al 4 P. M. EDT, on NBC.
36
on
zJrwouaA me ueawb wim
MCJM
The love of Mary and Larry Noble glows
more brightly than the make-believe glamor
of the theater that is part of their lives
2. Instantly attracted by Mary's prettiness and charm,
Larry invited her to see the play in which he was starring.
And later, at supper in one of New York's glamorous
restaurants, the young actor and the shy Iowa girl
realized breathlessly that they had fallen in love. Then
and there, Larry proposed marriage — and was accepted.
3. Larry's love lifted Mary into a world of happiness
where fear and loneliness had no. place. Quietly, in a pic-
turesque Connecticut church, they were married. Because
of Larry's nightly appearances in his successful play on
Broadway, they had no honeymoon— and needed none.
They could not have been happier on the moon.
IN Radio Mirror's backward look at
important moments in the life of
Backstage Wife are the following ac-
tors, just as you hear them on the air:
Mary Noble is played by Claire Niesen
Larry Noble James Meighan
Regina Rawlings Anne Burr
Maude Marlowe Ethel Wilson
Tom Bryson Charles S. Webster
Margot Dorothy Sands
on
J/woua/i me uecwb wim
4. Larry's success enabled the Nobles to buy
a pretty little house in Rosehaven, a Long
Island suburb half an hour away from the city.
And Larry Jr. was born — born into a world over
which threatening war clouds finally broke.
Larry Sr. became a lieutenant in the Coast Guard.
5. Larry saw much active duty in the South Pacific,
and Mary, though busy with her own acting career on
which she embarked during his absence, went through
days and nights of heartache. But two devoted friends
cheered the little house in Rosehaven : Tom Bryson,
Larry's former manager, and actress Maude Marlowe.
8. But luck changed: Tom Bryson returned from Holly-
wood with a play to be produced by wealthy, glamor-
ous Regina Rawlings, in which there was an excellent
part for Larry. The play was an immediate success —
and so, in another way, was Larry, for imperious Re-
gina fell in love with him and directed all her con-
siderable charm toward winning him away from Mary.
9. As Larry continued impervious to her overtures,
Regina became increasingly determined to make him
conscious of her as a woman. Deciding that with Mary
out of the way her chances would be far greater, she
and her maid Margot worked out a series of lies and
schemes which resulted in Mary's being sent away,
with Larry's consent, for a "rest cure" in Connecticut.
38
6. Then came the day the world waited for: the war
was over. Larry, reunited with his wife and son,
planned a return to the stage. But financial trouble
overtook the Nobles as time stretched out and
Larry, in spite of his talent and experience, did
not seem able to find a suitable, promising part.
7. Finally, famous playwright Eric Jackson, who
remembered Larry's outstanding work, said he had
written a play especially for Larry. Larry, eager
to accept, suddenly ■ -realized that Jackson was in-
fatuated with Mary. Mary, greatly upset, persuaded
Larry to reject the part, though it meant hardship.
10. Mary's enforced "rest cure," 'which of course she
did not need, was valuable because it gave her the
time and perspective to see what was happening to
her arid Larry. She understood how— and why — Regina
was plotting to separate her from Larry, and she
saw that the best thing she could do was to return
home at once. Suddenly, one day, she packed and went.
11. Larry, Larry Jr., Maude and Tom were overjoyed
at Mary's return home. But her troubles with Regina
were far from ended. Armed with a talent for
scheming and the strong will to win any game she
played, Regina countered Mary's return by flaunting
the estate she had bought, right near the Noble home in
Rosehaven. Here she was closer than ever to Larry.
39
Radio Mirror's Prize Poem
THE-NINTH MONTH
September is a stallion
with a flowing, tawny mane, ^Rfcf
who has never known a bridle,
nor a rider, nor a rein:
a steed of bronze and amber
whose bright hooves strike the ground
with' a sharp, staccato rhythm
and an icy, ringing sound.
September is a mustang
from wild, untrammeled skies
who gallops down the earthways
with wind-enchanted eyes.
— Virginia Moron Evans
TO A LITTLE GIRL GROWING UP
(On Having Her Dress Let Down)
This dress has faded pinkish-white
Like laurel long exposed to light —
Its hem, let down, has left a streak.
As pink as this or that plump cheek.
Around the skirt. It's that you mind —
Not fadiness? Why, how unkind —
For that pink streak will serve to show
All those who really couldn't know.
When it was new, your dress
Was aJJ rose-loveliness!
Isn't the story you like best —
Better than "Snow White" and the rest —
The one that I begin: "When I was small like
you?" — f/gff
Well, that's a pink streak, too.
Or so it seems.
In the much duller stuff of dreams
My grown-up self must wear —
So there!
And, really, if one didn't grow
And hems were kept hemmed up just so
In gowns and selves, their dawn-color gone.
Each time we quietly slipped them on.
There wouldn't even be — just think —
One gay, remembering streak of pink!
— Violet Alleyn Storey
REGRESSION
I have drawn back the silver veil of years
And found the happy town, the laughing
street
That knew me as a child. Oh, I have stood
Once more in the familiar doorway where
the sweet ^
Clear scent of lilacs rides astride the breeze
To call and reawaken memories
Long laid in dust. Oh, I have walked
The garden paths again and I have talked
To old acquaintances and frequented
The gay familiar haunts of long ago
And yet I am an alien — alone —
A stranger in my native land. I know
Man may retrace the steps of any Climb,
Descent, or Distance — anything but Time.
— Pegasus Buchanan
THE BOOK
The world's a book to small boys run-
ning
Past streams where solemn frogs are
sunning;
Through fields where yellow king-cups
shouh
"What's the hurry all about?"
So much to read in earth's thick book,
So Unit time to stop and look
At all the wonders printed deep
Upon the day. Too soon will sleep
Make reluctant prisoners
Of these quick-heeled geographers,
These small philosophers and sages
Who turn earth's multi-colored pages.
—Pauline Havard
September: a time for loo It in u hoehivartL with a siah for summer
Tt0 »*i$tn
"aUr,
tjy^^r^
H
'°Oe
°*»<la
Pro
da.
«fam
-o^
^-.A^"*'"-.
SONG FOR AN OPEN DOOR
An open door is beautiful to me
As anything in houses, whether it
Be when the pattern of it lies, lamp-lit.
Along the velvet grass, or when I see
The morning sun flow in to gild a floor.
An open door is somehow made for laughter
And song to drift through, and one looks back after
Leave-taking, glad to see an unshut door.
I know they will be lovely down the years
To me as now, alt opened doors, but none
Can be so fair as that one which appears
In sweet remembrance when, my journey done.
Or school, I see again my Mother stand.
Smiling at me, and holding out her hand.
— Elaine V. Emans
for th "««0fl w:n ^
**><* for L." rea<*er. J*** setlt ■
4J> **■ y % **«<>£ <°J0 iff * Radio
c7o«ed *' l7> N. y ' *a*o Af, ' a°Q ari
^sed ery effort ^er, n f°r' 205p
^ e°ds P*get P°et'y for^
EPITAPH FOR A PAS (T) TIME
In the bygone days when a man could glide
Through a waltz or two and a daring dip,
Or a fox trot paired with a one-two-slide
At a sweetly easy and dreamy clip;
When a man could figure on ample space
For his gal and self to meander in.
The art of dancing was subtle grace . . .
And you'd find me out for a trial spin.
But I learned my lesson with much to spare
On my first good crack at the modern floor,
When they finally dragged me away by the hair
From beneath the feet of some forty-score;
I was jittered and jived into black and blue
And wrestled around in a vicious whirl
Till I lost all track of the time and view,
And — oh, where are you now, dear?— gyen my
-girl!
Take theuboogie-woogie and jumpin' jive,
Those who will dare. I'll just stay alive.
— S. H. Dewhurst
*P
CHILD SWINGING
Firm hie feet on the swing-board end;
Sure hit knees in their stretch and bend.
Far up he goes; his body one
With sky and wind, and cloud and sun.
Down he comes with reluctant space
Pulling hard at his hair and face.
He stops in effervescent mirth
And staggers on the steady earth.
— Enola Chamberlin
VACATION
This is a photograph of you,
Warm and laughing, lean and browned;
This I .have, and a ticket stub,
And a rusty ring from a merry-go-round.
With no regrets for the kiss we shared.
Nor the tears I shed when we came to
part,
I have decided it's just as well
That I had no room to pack your heart.
— Harriet Scott
V
-^w.V-
m^m^*
L.**.^"
Radio Mirrors Prix* Poem
THE NINTH MONTH
September it a rtollion
with o flowing, town/ man*. ^»
who hoi never known a bridU,
nor a rider, nor a rein:
a steed of bronie and omber
who** bright hooves strike the ground
with' a sharp, itoccato rhythm
and on icy, ringing sound.
September it a mustang
from wild, untrammeled skies
who gallops down the earthways
with wind-enehonted eyes.
— Virginia Moran Evan*
TO A LITTLE GIRL GROWING UP
(On Having Her Dress Let Down)
This drees ha* faded pinkish -white
Ilk* laurel long exposed to light —
IU ham, let down, has left a streak.
As pink as this or that plump cheek.
Around the skirt. It's that you mind —
Not fadiness? Why, how unkind —
Foi that pink streak will serve to show
All those who really couldn't know.
When it wan new. your dress
Was all rose- loveliness I
Isn't the story you like best —
Better than "Snow While" and the rest —
The one that I begin: "When I was small like
you?" — 0pr
Well. that's a pink streak, too.
Or so it seems.
In the much duller stuff of dreams
My grown-up sell must wear —
So there I
And, really, 11 one didn't grow
And hems were kept hemmed up just so
In gowns and selves, their dawn-color gone.
Each time we quietly slipped them on.
There wouldn't even he— just think —
One gay, remembering streak of pink!
—Violet Alleyn Storey
w REGRESSION
I have drawn back the silver veil ol years
And found the happy town, the laughing
street
That knew me as a child. Oh, I have stood
Once more in the familiar doorway where
the sweet *
Clear scent of lilacs rides astride the breeze
To call and reawaken memories
Long laid in dust. Oh, I have walked
The garden paths again and I have talked
To old acquaintances and frequented
The gay familiar haunts of long ago
And yet I am an alien— alone —
A stranger in my native land. I know
Man may retrace the steps ol any Climb,
Descent, or Distance — anything but Time.
— Pegasus Buchcroc
THE BOOK
The wtrVs e beet te small boys run-
ning
Pail stream* where solemn frees ere
tunning;
Through Held* where yellow klng-cupt
shout:
"Whet's the hurry ell ebevt?"
So much te reed In earth's thick book,
Se flttte time to step and leek
At all the wooden printed deep
Upon the stay- Tee see* will sleep
Make reluctant prisoners
Of these ojuict-h soled geographers,
Who turn earth's multi-colored pages.
— Pauline Hevard
SONG FOR AN OPEN DOOR
An open door H beautiful to me
As anything in houses, whether it
Be when the partem of it lies, tomp-lit, atw*
Along the velvet gran, or when 1 tee
The morning sun flow in to gild a floor.
An open door is somehow made for laughter
And song to drift through, and one looks back after
Leave-taking, glad to see an unthut door.
I know they will be lovely down the yean
To me as now, all opened doors, but none
Can be so fair as that one which appears
In sweet remembrance when, my journey done.
Or school, I see again my Mother stand,
5m Usui at me, and holding out her hand.
— Elaine V. Emans
EPITAPH FOR A PAS<T)TIME
In the bygone days when a man could glide
Through a waltz or two and a daring dip,
Or a fox trot paired with a one-two-slide
At a sweetly easy and dreamy clip;
When a man could figure on ample space
For his gal and self to meander in.
The a« of dancing was subtle grace . . .
And you'd find me out for a trial spin.
But I learned my lesson with much to spare
On my first good crack at the modern floor.
When they finally dragged me away by the hair
From beneath the feet of some forty-score;
I was jittered and jived into black and blue
And wrestled around in a vicious whirl
Till I lost all track of the time and view.
And — oh, where are you now, dear?-^jven my
girl!
Take the-Jroogie-woogie and jumpin' jive.
Those who will dare. I'll just stay alive.
— S. H. Dewhurel
By
» „„ .M
"'"•loo.
^stSi^^svSc
CHILD SWINGING
Firm his feet on the swine-beard end;
Sere his knees in their stretch and bend.
far ep he goes; his body one
with sky and wind, and cloud and sun.
Down he comes with reluctant space
PulUng hard at his hair and face.
He steps In effervescent mirth
And staggers en the steady earth.
i Chamberlln
VACATION
This, is | photograph of you,
Warm and laughing, lean and browned:
This I have, und a ticket Hub,
And a rusty ring from a merry-go-round.
With no regrets for the kiss w< ill
Nor the tears I shrd when wr i tn
part,
I have decided il*> just u well
That I had no room to pack youi heart,
—Hat n< i
M,
gone — and forward, to meet the challenge in tin
r%
Thor, the colossal Great Dane, was a side-
walk superintendent as Les, jnaid Mary
Herman oski and Alice turned out the food.
The apartment
shortage kept
the Treroaynes
in one room un-
til recently;
that's why par-
lies in their
big new place
are such fnn.
Come on over — Alice Reinheart and Les Tremayne
Actress Ethel Owen's new white hat got a big ova-
tion from Alice, while Les greeted Mr. and Mrs. Ar-
thur Kohl (Arthur is Archie Andrews' radio father;
Ethel Owen is heard in many daytime drama roles).
There's a whole room for Les's hobby — cameras.
Alice Frost (radio's Mrs. North) and her hus-
band, ad-executive Bill Tuttle, were impressed
by Les's work and equipment — both excellent.
Alice Reinheart la Chichi in Life Can Be Beautiful, on
9'
omh.
am dt^
are having some friends in for an informal party. They're all people you know
Les's hot swing records, which alternate on the li-
brary shelves with Alice's classical albums, proved
too much for Hal and Gloria Peary, as Les, Alice,
the Kohls and actor Ron Rawson looked on, enviously.
The ensemble: Alice's piano (covered with a fam-
ily treasure, a priest's robe 200 years old) ; Arthur,
Gloria, Hal, Mrs. Kohl, Les. But those are not the
names the neighbors called them, the next day!
Any party, whether it be on Park Avenue in New York City (as this one was) or on Main Street in Medicine Hat, has one higher-
than-high point: the eats. Light from the candlesticks (a gift from Ramon Novarro) falls on Alice's prized Wedgwood china, and on
the handsome cloth that was hand-made by a devoted radio listener. And Mary decides she'll need that extra platterful, for the
company, locust-wise, is clearing the table: left to right are Ron, Les, Ethel, Alice, the Tuttles, the Pearys, the Kohls.
NBC; Lea Tremayne is heard in Adventures of The Falcon (MBS, Mon. nights at 8 P. M. EDT) and in Romance (CBS, Man., 10:30 P.M. EDT>.
43
People in love must have
a mutual interest, Charlene had
heard. So with a very little, a
very white lie, she invented one!
WHEN Bride and Groom first went on the air, we thought
it would be interesting to arrange a set of master-files on
the various phases of courtship, based on actual experi-
ences of engaged couples. For instance, how do the average
boy and girl meet? What is the usual reason for their falling in
love? How, and under what circumstances, does the boy
usually propose?
Since then, we've interviewed several thousand couples, on
and off the air, but we still don't have those master-files. In-
stead, we have a separate file for each couple, and a thorough
conviction that real-life love stories just can't be arranged
into classifications.
The way in which boy meets girl, for example. How would
you classify a meeting that took place because of a mouse and
a five-dollar bill? It happened when Monroe Martin was
paying his breakfast check at the restaurant where Marjorie
DeShazo was cashier. The mouse chose that moment to stroll
nonchalantly onto the scene and, before the uproar was ended,
Marjorie and Monroe were in a financial argument. Monroe
insisted that he had given her a ten-dollar bill, while Marjorie
was just as certain that it had been only a five-dollar bill.
To prove it, Marjorie indignantly checked her cash-drawer
— and discovered she was exactly five dollars over. At the
same time, Monroe checked his wallet — and discovered he still
had his ten-dollar bill! They never did figure out where the
extra five dollars came from, but they compromised by using
it to finance their first date together— which led eventually to
their sharing a wedding date on (Continued on page 74)
OHN NELSON
Bride and Groom, with John Nelson as master of ceremonies, brings love stories to
the proverbial happy ending every Monday through Friday at 2:30, EDT, ABC stations.
enrolled in a school for models and Ed was at
_e months later, with the help of Bride and Groo.
<mA a%cf\^vMnej(i
People in love must have
a mutual interest, Charlene had
heard. So with a very little, a
very white lie, she invented one!
w
HEN Bride and Groom first went on the air, we thou h
it would be interesting to arrange a set of master-files
the various phases of courtship, based on actual expert"
ences of engaged couples. For instance, how do the avera/
boy and girl meet? What is the usual reason for their falling;
love? How, and under what circumstances, does the b "
usually propose?
Since then, we've interviewed several thousand couples 0
and off the air, but we still don't have those master-fiies. i-"1
stead, we have a separate file for each couple, and a thoroueh
conviction that real-life love stories just can't be arranged
into classifications.
The way in which boy meets girl, for example. How would
you classify a meeting that took place because of a mouse and
a five-dollar bill? It happened when Monroe Martin wa
paying his breakfast check at the restaurant where Marjor'
DeShazo was cashier. The mouse chose that moment to stroll
nonchalantly onto the scene and, before the uproar was ended
Marjorie and Monroe were in a financial argument. Monro
insisted that he had given her a ten-dollar bill, while Manor]6
was just as certain that it had been only a five-dollar bill
To prove it, Marjorie indignantly checked her cash -drawer
— and discovered she was exactly five dollars over. At th
same time, Monroe checked his wallet — and discovered he still
had his ten-dollar bill! They never did figure out where the
extra five dollars came from, but they compromised by usins
it to finance their first date together— which led eventually to
their sharing a wedding date on (Continued on page 74)
"We art well, and work well, together.'*
The best way to fall in
love is not to know it's coming.
Then all at once, there you are
— and (if you're as lucky as
Betty and George) it's wonderful!
46
THE life we've found together is really pretty special —
and so peculiarly ours, I'm wondering how to talk
about it. . . .
I'm also afraid to remember how close we came to
never finding our love at all. Or, correction, how close
I, who was allergic to love, came to passing it by.
George's story is that the instant he first set eyes on
me, he said, "That's for me!" I. tell him I don't believe
him. How can I believe him when he describes what
I was wearing all wrong — proving, doesn't it, that he
didn't really see me at all? He insists that I was wear-
ing a brown suit with, of all repulsive combinations, a
black and white checked coat and, I'm quoting him,
"The most vile hat!" — when actually I had on a beige
wool dress, what I thought was a pretty wonderful hat
and no coat at all!
We met, strangely enough, in the studio at CBS, the
day George auditioned for the part of Bill Roberts in
our Rosemary show — the part he got and, as our fans
» and friends know, still has.
Nothing could have been more unpropitious for falling
in love, so far as I was concerned, than to meet another
young man auditioning for the part of Bill. We had been
auditioning young men and not-so-young men all week
long and I was young-men happy. To me, George was
just another young man, another young man in uniform
(this was 1945 and George, still in the Army — just back,
in fact, from overseas) so, barely glancing at him I said,
riffling the pages of the script, "Okay, let's go. . . ."
But when we started to read together I realized that
with this young man there was a mature interpretation
of the script — and, for me, there was something more.
There was a fine point, here, of relationship in acting.
In good acting, in proper acting, when you read a
script with someone, you establish a relationship with
him. Usually, however, actors are so nervous while
auditioning that they are thinking only of their lines,
only of themselves and not at all of you. But with
George, it was different. It was the difference between
making contact and not makihg contact. In other words,
I felt that George related to me and I, to him.
. . . but only as Rosemary and Bill. . . .
After the audition, I congratulated him and we went
our separate ways. If I'd thought about him at all,
which I didn't, I'd have said that young Mr. Keane's
lack of interest in me matched, nicely, my lack of in-
terest in him. He didn't even say he hoped he'd see me
again "some day." He'll tell you now, "I didn't try. I
didn't even try. I just bided my time."
That he did.
"I kissed her in a taxicab on Thanksgiving Day, 1945"
is George's line-a-day in his diary for Thanksgiving
Day of 1945.
So he did.
We had been working together, by that time, for about
two months and never an "ask" for a date; never a
gleam in George's eyes. Then, suddenly, after the
!
Thanksgiving broadcast, "Let's go around the corner
and have something to eat," said George to me — and to
Dodi Yeats, who was the director of our show at that
time. At Louis and Armand's, the little restaurant
around the corner from CBS, we had a holiday egg-
nogg. Then Dodie had to leave us. I was going on for
dinner at the Millard LampelTs (Millard, as you know,
wrote The Long Way Home) and after a bit of talk
which, for all the personal touch it had, might have
been broadcast over the networks, George put me in a
cab. Just as the cab started to pull away, he quickly
leaned in — and kissed me.
It made me feel very warm and nice, that kiss — very
nice and warm but nothing more. I know, now, that I
underestimated its significance, but at the time— -well,
after all, it was a holiday and men who had been~ over-
seas were pretty sentimental, I knew, about holidays.
So it didn't particularly surprise me. Putting it down
as just one of those things, I quickly dismissed it from
my mind.
It was, as I recall it, another two months before George
again indicated that I was in his (Continued on page 92)
c*>
By
BETTY
WINKLER
/,
"After the weekend
we spent with Elaine
Carrington, -he mar-
ried u~ in the script!5"
Betty Winkler and George Keane
are heard in Rosemary, Mon.-Fri.
at 11:45 A.M. EDT, CBS stations.
*<_4 : * •■ '
V
Tex McCrary and his wife, Jinx Falkenburg, run Tex-
Jinx Productions in N.Y. In Manhasset, they just live.
Jinx, who used to be America's foremost model,
poses for distinguished painter Moses Soyer.
IN THE East Sixties in New York there is a brown-
stone house that has been converted into handsome
offices. You go up two flights of stairs, carpeted in
emerald green, and come to a door that says, in very-
small print, "Tex-Jinx Productions." Inside is a set of
rooms done in the most attractive modern style. The first
is studded with four little desks of blond wood, deep
leather chairs, and stunning drapes. The main room
is outstanding for its use of color and the fact that it is
built around a fabulous television set in a custom-made
cabinet. Off this is a small private office done in cocoa
brown but dominated by a cherry-red sofa — one of those
long, flat jobs in heavy weave material.
All this gives a picture of the workshop in which is
conducted one of the most successful partnerships today
— Mr. and Mrs. Tex McCrary — successful in marriage,
family, radio and television, they go. at a dizzy pace, so
they are very grateful for their office-haven. Their home
is out in Manhasset, Long Island, and they manage to
keep it completely free from business.
Although they are doing seven radio shows a week —
their early morning show six times and, of course, they
are the summer replacement for Duffy's Tavern every
Wednesday night, it was television we wanted to talk
about, and Tex was only too happy to comply. Jinx
lets him do most of the talking— displaying a great deal
more wifeliness than most less glamorous, less famous
fraus.
To the all-important question about what was wrong
with television today, Tex answered a surprising, "Noth-
ing." But then he went on to say he meant nothing that
some real showmanship wouldn't cure. According to Tex,
48
RADIO
M I R R O
ductwns
,^1^ ' » *i» l«fe
Al Jalson is an old friend: Jinx was in "Hold On
to Your Hats" with him when she first met Tex.
Production HQ is a New
York brownstone: guest
Sonja Henie (r) can stay
to tea when Tex, Jinx
and engineer let her "off
duty" after broadcast.
television is now being run mainly by engineers, sales-
men, and advertising agencies. His big. hope is that
people like Rogers and Hammerstein, George Abbot,
David Selznick, Irving Berlin, Sam Goldwyn and other
famous showmen will come into the field and do for it
what they've done for the theater, radio, and movies.
"I think one of the best things that could happen to
video is to have Bing Crosby produce* a show of his own
— built around himself — on film. In short, do in tele-
vision what he did in radio."
Did that mean that in his opinion only big names like
Crosby would shine on tele? What about new talent —
did he think there would be opportunities for them?
"Enormous opportunities for new people — I mention
Crosby because he could do so much for the medium,
but he is an exception. There are only a few big name
stars who could afford to go into it. You have to be at
the very top, have reserve capital, and a tax situation
which not only permits but almost demands that you
operate something at a loss. Despite their big salaries
there are mighty few big name stars in that position."
Tex is cooking up an extremely interesting tele show
that promises much good televiewing. It is a visual
newspaper — an hour show with Tex as Editor-in-Chief;
Dave Sherman — former editor of Life magazine's
"Speaking of Pictures" — as managing editor; and Barry
Lohman as woman's page editor. Jinx will be a reporter
assigned to Miss Lohman and a camera will follow her
while she gets her story. Fifty percent of every show
will be on film. When I cautiously suggested that that
was expensive, Tex looked pleased with himself and
said he had a way of getting around that. He is even
planning a "Junior Edition" built around the McCrary-
Falkenburg son, two-year-old Paddy. They want to do
this show at 9:00 o'clock on Sunday mornings. It would
feature all kinds of entertainment aimed at the very
young, plus a view of the reactions of Paddy and his
little friends.
Tex was getting so enthusiastic about video that I
popped the $64 question, to wit: "Are you interested
in television to a point that you will exclude all radio
broadcasting eventually?"
"Absolutely — as soon as we really get going in tele-
vision, we'll devote ourselves (Continued on page 83)
TELEVISION
SECTION
49
ff
[EIGH-HO, Everybody"— that greeting will go
down as one of the most famous in the his-
tory of radio. For twenty years radio fans
recognized those words as meaning that Rudy
Vallee was on the air, and they were going to be
entertained! Twenty years ago, Rudy stepped be-
fore a microphone in the smart and expensive
night spot, the Heigh-Ho Club, in New York, and
there was born the greeting of the same name and
a fabulous radio career. Since that night back in
February of 1928, Vallee has become something of
an American phenomenon in the field of enter-
tainment. Singers, comedians and actors have
flared into fame and then fallen by the wayside,
but Vallee goes on and on.
So, when the almost legendary Rudy Vallee
announces that he will henceforth devote himself
to television, that bears investigation. Rudy is now
busily engaged in the production of a series of
half-hour comedy-dramas written, directed, en-
acted and photographed (he'll put everything on
film) exclusively for TV. The first, a satire on the
importance of college football, titled "College
Days," has been completed for several months.
Vallee, producer, director and star of the TV pic-
ture, has studded the cast with such well known
laugh getters as Charlie Cantor, Lionel Stander
and Maurice Cass. And for a touch of glamor,
Vallee has co-starred Lorry Raine, a new singing
discovery. The company has started its third half-
hour film already and present plans call for the
making of a series of twenty-five of these half-
hour video programs. (Continued on page 84)
;v
<^i
Here's the Vallee-Video
group : Maurice Cass,
Lorry Raine, Lionel
Stander, Rudy himself,
Charles Cantor. They
plan 25 half-hour tele-
films; three of them
are already completed.
RADIO!
B
oovway
M.C. of WABD's Doorway to
Fame is Johnny Olsen, of
Ladies Be Seated fame.
Cooperating in Doorway
to. Fame's tele-talent
search is Radio Mirror;
when you view the show
watch for Joan Lloyd,
our television editor.
AS MANY viewers of the stations of the WABD
network already know, Radio and Television Mir-
ror in the person of its television editor, Joan
Murphy Lloyd, has begun a new and more active in-
terest in television — cooperation in the production of
WABD's Doorway to Fame program and its search for
new television talent.
The hand, which, so to speak, opens the Doorway to
Fame each Monday night at seven on Dumont Network
stations, is Johnny Olsen's. Radio listeners remember
him as "that wonderful m.c. on Ladies Be Seated, who
laughs with you, not at you!"
Johnny made his radio debut at seventeen as the
"Buttermilk Kid" on a Madison, Wisconsin, station, and
at eighteen achieved the distinction of being the
youngest radio station manager in the country. His
next move was to organize a dance band. Soon after-
ward Chicago radio beckoned; then Hollywood, then
New York and Ladies Be Seated.
Johnny is the youngest of ten children in a Minnesota
family — and perhaps its that big family which accounts
for his generous understanding of people, his kindliness
and sympathy toward contestants on his programs. He's
happily married to that same "Penny" whom radio
audiences knew as his assistant for many years. He
stands five feet ten, has blue eyes, dark brown hair, and
is stockily built. His hobby is recording, and in the
Olson household you'll always find, according to that
happy Scandinavian custom, the coffee pot bubbling
merrily on the stove.
At the present time, Johnny is a show business triple-
threat man, entertaining radio, stage and television
audiences. His MBS Movie Matinee is heard every after-
noon direct from the stage of the Palace Theater in New
York; his ABC Rumpus Room for stay-up-laters is
heard six nights a week; and he is seen and heard on
Doorway to Fame, which presents to television viewers
talented people who have made their mark in other
fields, but who are new to television audiences.
Seen and heard with him nowadays on Doorway to
Fame is Joan Murphy Lloyd, for Dumont Television
and Radio and Television Mirror have combined
efforts, through the program, to conduct a large-scale
search for new and better talent for video viewers. Next
month, this department will reveal plans for a new kind
of talent hunt, in which the readers of the magazine and
the audience of the program will be asked to participate.
Be watching for it!
I R R O R
TELEVISION SECTION
51
HEIGH-HO, Everybody"— that greeting will go
down as one of the most famous in the his-
tory of radio. For twenty years radio fans
recognized those words as meaning that Rudy
Vallee was on the air, and they were going to be
entertained! Twenty years ago, Rudy stepped be-
fore a microphone in the smart and expensive
night spot, the Heigh-Ho Club, in New York, and
there was born the greeting of the same name and
a fabulous radio career. Since that night back in
February of 1928, Vallee has become something of
an American phenomenon in the field of enter-
tainment. Singers, comedians and actors have
flared into fame and then fallen by the wayside,
but Vallee goes on and on.
So, when the almost legendary Rudy Vallee
announces that he will henceforth devote himself
to television, that bears investigation. Rudy is now
busily engaged in the production of a series of
half-hour comedy-dramas written, directed, en-
acted and photographed (he'll put everything on
film) exclusively for TV. The first, a satire on the
importance of college football, titled "College
Days," has been completed for several months.
Vallee, producer, director and star of the TV pic-
ture, has studded the cast with such well known
laugh getters as Charlie Cantor, Lionel Stander
and Maurice Cass. And for a touch of glamor,
Vallee has co-starred Lorry Raine, a new singing
discovery. The company has started its third half-
hour film already and present plans call for the
making of a series of twenty-five of these half-
hour video programs. (Continued on page 84)
Doorway 15 EMI
AS MANY viewers of the stations of the WABD
network already know, Radio and Television Mir-
ror in the person of its television editor, Joan
Murphy Lloyd, has begun a new and more active in-
terest in television — cooperation in the production of
WABD's Doorway to Fame program and its search for
new television talent.
The hand, which, so to speak, opens the Doorway to
Fame each Monday night at seven on Dumont Network
stations, is Johnny Olsen's. Radio listeners remember
him as "that wonderful m.c. on Ladies Be Seated, who
laughs with you, not at you!"
Johnny made his radio debut at seventeen as the
"Buttermilk Kid" on a Madison, Wisconsin, station, and
at eighteen achieved the distinction of being the
youngest radio station manager in the country. His
next move was to organize a dance band. Soon after-
ward Chicago radio beckoned; then Hollywood, then
New York and Ladies Be Seated.
Johnny is the youngest of ten children in a Minnesota
family — and perhaps its that big family which accounts
for his generous understanding of people, his kindliness
and sympathy toward contestants on his programs. He's
happily married to that same "Penny" whom radio
M.C. of WABD'a Doorway to
Fame is Johnny Olsen, of
Ladies Be Seated fame.
Cooperating in Doorway
to. Fame's tele-talent
search is Radio Mirror;
when you view the show
watch for Joan Lloyd,
our television editor.
audiences knew as his assistant for many years. He
stands five feet ten, has blue eyes, dark brown hair, and
is stockily built. His hobby is recording, and in the
Olson household you'll always find, according to that
happy Scandinavian custom, the coffee pot bubbling
merrily on the stove.
At the present time, Johnny is a show business triple-
threat man, entertaining radio, stage and television
audiences. His MBS Movie Matinee is heard every after-
noon direct from the stage of the Palace Theater in New
York; his ABC Rumpus Room for stay- up- late rs is
heard six nights a week; and he is seen and heard on
Doorway to Fame, which presents to television viewers
talented people who have made their mark in other
fields, but who are new to television audiences.
Seen and heard with him nowadays on Doorway to
Fame is Joan Murphy Lloyd, for Dumont Television
and Radio and Television Mirror have combined
efforts, through the program, to conduct a large-scale
search for new and better talent for video viewers. Next
month, this department will reveal plans for a new kind
of talent hunt, in which the readers of the magazine and
the audience of the program will be asked to participate.
Be watching for it!
MJR r o r
TELEVISION SEC T I 0 N
Soda vendor at the bad
park to "The Nation's Number One
Sportscaster" — with time
out in between to get his degree
in law! That's the Allen story
PICTURE of a very good guy: a bachelor at thirty-five, a
lawyer (though he doesn't work at it), a fellow whose
fayorite cuss words are "Dad Gum," whose height of
vituperation is "I could spit!", whose greatest loves are base-
ball and his two-year-old niece and baseball and seafood and
baseball and movies and baseball and more baseball!
That's Mel Allen, the Voice of the New York Yankees,
whose broadcasts of Yankee home and road baseball games
over Radio Station WINS have won him the designation of
the Nation's Number One Sports Broadcaster.
Mel's first participation in big league ball was a passive one.
At the age of thirteen he managed to get himself a job as a
soft-drink butcher at, the ball park in Detroit. But the job
didn't last long — Mel was much too interested in watching
the Tigers to be a howling success at peddling soda pop, and
he was fired.
Born in Alabama, Mel spent most of his life there, with the
exception of that year in Detroit, another in Toledo, and
three years in the pay of Uncle Sam, until, in 1937, he was
called to CBS in New York for an audition, and became a
member of the announcing staff there. Broadcasting expe-
rience prior to that had been play-by-play descriptions of the
University of Alabama and Auburn football games. That job
had been a normal follow-up to Mel's college days, for be-
fore graduating from the U. of Alabama Law School in 1935,
he was sports editor of the university newspaper and annual,
and manager of the baseball team.
Allen fives with his mother and father in Fieldston, at the
northern tip of the island of Manhattan, where there's still
a lot of country left. He's the sort of stay-up-late addict who
gets into his pajamas at ten o'clock, announces, "Well, I need
a good night's sleep," and is still awake and going strong at
3 A'.M. The neighborhood movies — his mother is his favorite
date — take up a good deal of his time, and if there's a double
feature playing, so much the better. Apple of his eye is his
next-favorite date, Risa, very young daughter of Mel's sister,
Esther. Brother Larry, who also lives at home, is Mel's
statistician, and works with Allen and Russ Hodges at the
WINS microphone during Yankee games.
It's Russ Hodges, who knows Mel so well from long and
close association at these games, who can give the best insight
into the Allen personality, for Mel himself is reserved on the
subject of personal data.
"Allen?" says Hodges. "As grand a man to work with, to be
associated with, to know, as you will find from one Portland
to the other!"
Of course, Yankee games don't take all Mel's time, especially
out of season. There are World Series games, too, and, in the
winter, his own disc jockey show on WINS as well, to keep
him a busy guy the whole year around.
3k* *'
o^
*'• tf*"
01*
4n
,trl^
^>"
,<^C
it-**
Ar*
«r
t^p
#*♦
By
TOMMY
BARTLETI
YOUNG David Leadinghouse wastes no dreaming time
on buried gold and pirate treasure. Strictly 1948 in
his approach to high adventure, the fifteen-year-old
student follows the contests.
Because he does, his lovely mother, Florence — Mrs.
William John Leadinghouse — became our Traveler of
the Month and winner of Procter and Gamble's Hidden
City prize that makes a miser's hoard seem small change.
Although it was Florence who carried the $25,000 check
home to their five-room apartment at 1429 Edgewater
Avenue, Chicago, her husband Bill, and her sons David
and Jack all had a part of winning it. For the Leading-
house family has a habit of doing things together. When
Tommy Bartlett, spon-
sor's representative
H. E. Purcell, and gro-
cer Henry Jung all had
a share in Florence
Leadinghouse's big day. %
From lb* file* of Welcome Traveler* (12 Noon,
54
their varied interests keep them from home at dinner
time, Florence doesn't fuss too much. She's a bit more
tolerant than the average wife and mother about the
touchy subject of serving meals on time. She knows it
won't be long until one of her menfolk comes in shouting
"Let's play golf," "Let's go fishing," or "Let's work a
contest."
At fifty, Florence Leadinghouse is the kind of woman
who fits into that active life. Smoothly coifed gray hair
frames her unlined, youthful face. Her quiet reserve
scarcely masks a bubbling sense of humor.
With both her husband and her sons, she's the girl they
best like having around, for she maintains a fine balance
of femininity and independence. She may expect them
to bait her hook when they fish, but she can also sock a
golf ball down the fairway with such accuracy that she
keeps the family foursome interesting.
For Florence, this pattern of zestful living began in a
big, rambling house in Morgan Park, a suburb of Chicago.
Her father, George Sjoerdsma, a landscape artist, was
once one of the country's largest importers of Holland
bulbs, and Florence, as a child, helped care for the acres
of tulips which flanked their home.
Much as she loved her family, she had the Hollander's
desire to stand on her own two feet. Being independent
was part of growing up. Florence became a secretary in
a Loop office, and in the early twenties moved to Chicago
where she shared the giggling gaiety of the group of
career girls who roomed at a widow's home.
Every night was date night for some one in the crowd.
Girlish boasts about a couple of "just wonderful young
men" piqued her curiosity. Frankly admitting she, too,
wanted to see them, Florence donned a maid's uniform
and answered the door. But her disguise scarcely lasted
through the first meeting, for one was a lad from Ohio,
just starting a radio and sporting goods store. It wasn't
long before he became her best beau. In 1926, Florence
Sjoerdsma and William John Leadinghouse were married.
Because they didn't want their son to carry a life-long
tag of "Junior", the young couple reversed the order of
the father's names — called their first-born John William,
and promptly shortened it to Jack.
When their second boy arrived five years later, Jack
had a voice in family conferences. He adored a Milt
Gross comic strip character called Dave and demanded
his parents name the baby for his hero. Florence and
Bill laughed at first, then realized David was a good,
solid Biblical name a boy could live with. Jack had his
way. He named his brother David.
Jack, now twenty, has a couple of terms of North-
western University journalism classes to his academic
credit, some short stories started, and draws his paycheck
from Kemper Insurance Company.
At fifteen, David wants to be a big league baseball
player, and already shows signs of being a good provider.
He likes to do the family shopping at the Hollywood IGA
Food Market where his friend Henry Jung keeps Jr.
informed of both the best food buys and the current con-
tests sponsored by manufacturers.
Says Florence, "We kid Dave about bringing home
entry blanks, but we all end up having fun working them
out. If I happen to have the products in the house, we
tear off a label and send in our (Continued on page 70)
Monday through Friday on ABC) come the stories which M.C. Tommy Bartlett retells eachmonth for Radio Mirr
55
1 1
1
^
' tr*'
31* *
0rv'
tU».
i/c
V
,*<
,Ue'
maveleM
YOUNG David Leadinghouse wastes no dreaming time
or. buried gold and pirate treasure. Strictly 1948 in
his approach to high adventure, the fifteen-year-old
^^X'^tetely mother, Florence-Mrs.
William John Leadinghouse-became our Traveler of
the Month and winner of Procter and Gambles Hidden
City prize that makes a miser s ho^^m l™^^
Although it was Florence who carried the $25,000 check
home to their five-room apartment at 1429 Edgewater
Avenue Chicago, her husband Bill, and her sons David
and Jack all had a part of winning it. For the Leadmg-
house family has a habit of doing things together. When
l"f CM -
Tommy Bartlett, spon-
sor^ representative
H. E. Purcell. and gro-
cer Henry Jung all had
a share in Florence
Leadinghouse^ big day.%
By
TOMMY
BARTLETT
their varied interests keep them from home at dinner
time, Florence doesn't fuss too much. She's a bit more
tolerant than the average wife and mother about the
touchy subject of serving meals on time. She knows it
won't be long until one of her menfolk comes in shouting
"Let's play golf," "Let's go fishing," or "Let's work a
contest."
At fifty, Florence Leadinghouse is the kind of woman
who fits into that active life. Smoothly coifed gray hair
frames her unlined, youthful face. Her quiet reserve
scarcely masks a bubbling sense of humor.
With both her husband and her sons, she's the girl they
best like having around, for she maintains a fine balance
of femininity and independence. She may export thorn
to bait her hook when they fish, but .slu- can also sock -i
golf ball down the fairway with such accuracy thai six-
keeps the family foursome interesting
For Florence, this pattern of zestful living beg;m In .1
big, rambling house in Morgan Park, a suburb of Chicago,
Her father, George Sjoerdsma, a landscape artist, was
once one of the country's largest importers of Holland
bulbs, and Florence, as a child, helped care for the acne
of tulips which flanked their home.
Much as she loved her family, she had the Hollander's
desire to stand on her own two feet. Bein>; Independent
was part of growing up. Florence became a secretary in
a Loop office, and in the early twenties moved to Chicago
where she shared the giggling gaiety of the group of
career girls who roomed at a widow's home.
Every night was date night for some one in the crowd.
Girlish boasts about a couple of "just wonderful young
men" piqued her curiosity. Frankly admitting she, too,
wanted to see them, Florence donned a maid's uniform
and answered the door. But her disguise scarcely lasted
through the first meeting, for one was a lad from Ohio,
just starting a radio and sporting goods store. It wasn't
long before he became her best beau. In 1926, Florence
Sjoerdsma and William John Leadinghouse ware married.
Because they didn't want their son to carry a life-long
tag of "Junior", the young couple reversed the order <>(
the father's names — called their first-born John William,
and promptly shortened it to Jack.
When their second boy arrived five yean later, Jack
had a voice in family conferences. He adored a Milt
Gross comic strip character called Dave and demanded
his parents name the baby for his hero. Florence and
Bill laughed at first, then realized David was a good,
solid Biblical name a boy could live with. Jack had his
way. He named his brother David.
Jack, now twenty, has a couple of terms of North-
western University journalism classes to his academli
credit, some short stories started, and draws his paycheck
from Kemper Insurance Company.
At fifteen, David wants to be a big league ba bal
player, and already shows signs of being a good provide]
He likes to do the family shopping at the Hollywood IGA
Food Market where his friend Henry Jung keept Jl
informed of both the best food buys and the curmit run
tests sponsored by manufacturers.
Says Florence, "We kid Dave about bringing home
entry blanks, but we all end up having fun working them
out. If I happen to have the products m the house, wc
tear off a label and send in our (Continued on page 70)
Pro-. lb« Um ol W«1com> Travolm 112 Noon,
ond.y tbrrxilh Prio-r on ABC) -
, tk. .tori- -W* M,C T«.-T B*mI... ««ll. «*— * '"< *■*" M"
w#eeatu{A
Ruth and Hoagy's off-again, on-again romance Worried col-
umnists till Wine hell formally "engaged" them on the air.
Hoagy is "Sawdust" — nobody knows why — to Randy Bob, seven, and Hoagy Bix,
nine. He's also a big help when one of the "Small Fry" machines gives out.
Hoagy's still got Indiana in his soul. "But
By PAULINE
ANEW television station opened
in Hollywood the other day
and the top stars of screen
and radio were on hand to partici-
pate in the dedication ceremonies.
Along about midway in the gala
three hour program, the master
of ceremonies drew a long breath
and announced:
"Comes now one of the most
versatile young stars in Holly-
wood— song writer, recording ar-
tist, star of his own radio show,
now a comedy sensation in the
movies — Hoagy Carmichael!"
"Man," Hoagy said, ambling to
the microphone, "that introduc-
tion makes me feel old."
The first of the five thousand
times he had heard himself de-
scribed as versatile, he explained
"The fellow who wrote Star Dust" is entitled to hang ont
his shingle as a lawyer. He's still surprised about that.
Beverly Hills isn't bad, as a substitute.'
Hoagy wore himself out trying to keep up with his energetic sons,
finally hired a physical trainer named "Skeeter" to help wear them out.
SWANSON
later, was twenty years ago when
he surprised everyone — including
himself — by passing the bar and
hanging out a shingle as a lawyer.
This business of studying law
was never Hoagy's idea, but his
father's. The elder Carmichael —
an electrician — had held out for
a "respectable" profession for his
day-dreaming son long after it
was apparent that Hoagy's real
interest was in music.
That Hoagy spent more time
mooning over the piano in the
Book Nook, the Indiana Univer-
sity student hang- out, than in
the library over his law books,
didn't alarm his father so long as
his son made passing marks in his
"serious" studies. Hoagy's dance
band, which was an Indiana in-
Ituih .mi] flongy'l offagflln, on-ogatn romance worried col
UDDllU lill Winchrll formally "engaged" them on the air,
Bfaogj U "Sawdust" nobody knows why— to Randy Bob, seven, and Hoagy Bix,
• Be'l iil»» .1 Ink help when one of the "Small Fry" machines gives oat.
Hoagy's atill got Indiana in his soul. "Bat
By PAULINE
ANEW television station opened
In Hollywood the other day
and the top stars of screen
and radio were on hand to partici-
pate in the dedication ceremonies.
Along about midway in the gala
three hour program, the master
of ceremonies drew a long breath
and announced:
"Comes now one of the most
versatile young stars in Holly-
wood— song writer, recording ar-
tist, star of his own radio show,
now a comedy sensation in the
movies — Hoagy Carmichael!"
"Man," Hoagy said, ambling to
the microphone, "that introduc-
tion makes me feel old."
The first of the five thousand
times he had heard himself de-
scribed as versatile, he explained
Beverly Bills isn't bad, as a substitute."
SWANSON
later, was twenty years ago when
he surprised everyone — including
himself — by passing the bar and
hanging out a shingle as a lawyer.
This business of studying law
was never Hoagy's idea, but his
father's. The elder Carmichael —
an electrician — had held out for
a "respectable" profession for his
day-dreaming son long after it
was apparent that Hoagy's real
interest was in music.
That Hoagy spent more time
mooning over the piano in the
Book Nook, the Indiana Univer-
sity student hang-out, than in
the library over his law books,
didn't alarm his father so long as
bis son made passing marks in his
"serious" studies. Hoagy's dance
band, which was an Indiana in-
"The fellow who wrote Slnr Dust" i» eniiili'd to hang out
hi* shingle ss a lawyer. He*> still inrpriied iboal ili-u.
Hoagy wore himself out trying lo Leep up with bia UMfgotk lODJ,
finally hired a physical trainer named "Skcctcr" lo help wear lh«m out.
The internal workings of Stardust House are managed
by the Carmichael's English housekeeper, Ada Dockery.
Songa l>y Hoagy Carmichael may be heard
Saturdays on CBS, at 7i45 P.M. EOT.
stitution, was acceptable to the home folks because it
helped to pay the freight for an expensive legal edu-
cation. As for the songs he was already beginning
to put down on paper — well, his parents said, it's
always nice to have a hobby.
Hoagy's college pals — and his professors — were
more realistic about what was a hobby with the boy.
It was only when he passed the bar that they tagged
him as versatile.
He was a little surprised himself. So surprised
that he snooted a remarkably flattering offer — for a
non-pro — to come to New York as staff composer for
a big song publishing house, and set himself up
instead in a law office in West Palm Beach, Florida.
For a year and a half he played lawyer, "with a
straight face," he recalls. He made a good enough
living, taking on civil damage suits on a percentage
basis. But he was bored.
One spring-fever day he leaned out of his open
office window for a whiff of air, and heard a tune —
strangely familiar — coming from the music store
across the street. He put on his hat, locked the office
and went over there. The tune was familiar — it was
his own "Washboard Blues," newly recorded by the
top band of the day, Red Nichols and his Five
Pennies.
"I'll buy that," Hoagy said, meaning the record,
and more.
If his stuff was good enough for Red Nichols, he
Friends never telephone: they just come. "It's a party,"
58
knew he was wasting his time in West Palm Beach.
He took the night train for New York, and the music
business.
It would be a shorter story if one could say here
that from this point everything was clover. It wasn't.
Hoagy had the songs, but important ears weren't
ready to hear them.
He made his first trip to Hollywood in 1929, to try
to interest Paul Whiteman — who was about to film
"King of Jazz" — in two of his new numbers. He
couldn't sell either one of them: "Old Rockin' Chair,"
and "Star Dust."
"Star Dust" had come out of a sentimental pil-
grimage to the Indiana campus the summer after he
turned his back on the law. He had wandered into
the Book Nook — quiet, uncrowded now, his old
friends all gone — and had sat down at the piano on
which every scar was familiar.
Idly, he played a few notes . . . there they were
again.
He pushed the bench back, began to stroll away.
As he walked he whistled. It was the rest of the
tune. He went back to the piano and scribbled the
whole thing down.
As everybody knows, Paul Whiteman missed a bet
with that one.
Among the old college pals Hoagy ran into at jam
sessions that summer in Indiana was Helen Menardi.
Helen had written a few (Continued on page 85)
On the spread in Hoagy's otherwise tailored room, his
mother has embroidered the opening bars of "Star Dust."
'•(Mil
The concert grand in the living room, Hoagy explains, is for "fun." Work is
something else, and is done in the workroom on a beat-up studio upright.
Hoagy says — and it is, when he's around.
The internal workings of Stardust House are managed
by the Carmichuel's English housekeeper, Ada Dockery.
Song* by Hongy Carmlohael may be beard
Saturday! on CBS, at 7.45 P.M. EOT.
stitution, was acceptable to the home folks because it
helped to pay the freight for an expensive legal edu-
cation. As for the songs he was already beginning
to put down on paper— well, his parents said, it's
always nice to have a hobby.
Hoagy's college pals — and his professors— were
more realistic about what was a hobby with the boy
It was only when he passed the bar that they tagged
him as versatile.
He was a little surprised himself. So surprised
that he snooted a remarkably flattering offer— for a
non-pro— to come to New York as staff composer for
a big song publishing house, and set himself up
instead in a law office in West Palm Beach, Florida.
For a year and a half he played lawyer, "with a
straight face," he recalls. He made a good enough
living, taking on civil damage suits on a percentage
basis. But he was bored.
One spring-fever day he leaned out of his open
office window for a whiff of air, and heard a tune-
strangely familiar — coming from the music store
across the street. He put on his hat, locked the office
and went over there. The tune was familiar— it was
his own "Washboard Blues," newly recorded by the
top band of the day, Red Nichols and his Five
Pennies.
"I'll buy that," Hoagy said, meaning the record,
. and more.
If his stuff was good enough for Red Nichols, he
knew he was wasting his time in West Palm Beach.
He took the night train for New York, and the music
business.
It would be a shorter story if one could say here
that from this point everything was clover. It wasn't.
Hoagy had the songs, but important ears weren't
ready to hear them.
He made his first trip to Hollywood in 1929, to try
to interest Paul Whiteman— who was about to film
"King of Jazz" — in two of his new numbers. He
couldn't sell either one of them: "Old Rockin' Chair,"
and "Star Dust."
"Star Dust" had come out of a sentimental pil-
grimage to the Indiana campus the summer after he
turned his back on the law. He had wandered into
the Book Nook — quiet, uncrowded now, his old
friends all gone — and had sat down at the piano on
which every scar was familiar.
Idly, he played a few notes . . . there they were
again.
He pushed the bench back, began to stroll away.
As he walked he whistled. It was the rest of the
tune. He went back to the piano and scribbled the
whole thing down.
As everybody knows, Paul Whiteman missed a bet
with that one.
Among the old college pals Hoagy ran into at jam
sessions that summer in Indiana was Helen Menardi.
Helen had written a few (Continued on page 85)
-iT-
*•»«.«
i A
"" 1
1 ' - - -■■ LaH
■H| 1
38£p£
On the spread in Hoagy's otherwise tailored room, hie
mother has embroidered the opening bars of "Star Dust."
Friends never telephone: they just come. "It's a Par1''
when he's around.
The concert grand
n the living room, ]
loagy explains, is (or "fun." Work is
something
else, and is done in the workroom on a beat-up studio upright.
1 1
! '' 1
WW
H i i
?i
■ ■»
■
■
9
F-li
■ *,
■
ITT.
a ■
■ l ; : ■
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*"*17
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-4JB
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™;-f^^*
WHEN I am tired, a big fruit salad just seems
to hit the spot. I don't seem to want a lot
of heavy food — or a lot of heavy work. So
I buy an assortment of fruits, cut them up, and
dunk them in citrus fruit juice to keep them
from darkening. Then I chill them thoroughly,
pile on crisp lettuce — and it's as pretty as a
picture!
I have several special dressings I like to serve
with my fruit salads. French dressing and may-
onnaise are always good, but so is variety.
Several of my favorites are included here.
They'll give salads a "new look" and a new
taste.
Since I make it a rule never to let a meal go
by without serving at least one warm food, my
choice is hot biscuits or popovers. Here are
my special cheese and watercress biscuits too.
Cheese Biscuits
% cup grated American
cheese
% cup shortening
% cup milk
2 cups sifted all purpose
flour
3 teaspoons baking
powder
1 teaspoon salt
Sift together dry ingredients, stir in cheese.
Cut in shortening until well mixed. Add milk,
stirring quickly until a soft but not sticky dough
is formed. Turn out on lightly floured board.
Shape into a smooth ball; roll lightly or pat
out to 1-inch thick. Cut out rounds with a
floured biscuit cutter. Place on lightly greased
baking sheet V2 inch apart if you like a biscuit
with crusty sides. Put them close together for
a tall soft-sided biscuit. Bake in a very hot
oven (450° F.) for 12 to 15 minutes. Makes 12
two-inch biscuits.
Watercress Biscuits
Add Vz cup finely chopped watercress to flour-
shortening mixture, instead of the cheese.
Serve with salads and meat stews.
Warm weather is light-eating weather.
Fruit salads fill the bill; they're
crisp and cool and picture-pretty.
By
KA1E SMITH
Listen each Monday
through Friday at
noon when Kate Smith
Speaks, on (MBS
RADIO MIRROR
FOOD COUNSELOR
Minted Fruit Salad
% cup diced fresh
pineapple
34 cup sliced bananas
% cup cubed oranges or
peaches
% cup cantaloupe balls
% cup watermelon balls
% cup honey dew balls
1 apple diced
2 avocados, peeled and
sliced
1 cup pineapple or orange
juice
mayonnaise
mint sprigs
watercress
lettuce
Lightly combine pineapple, bananas, oranges,
cantaloupe, watermelon, honey dew, apple and
avocado. Pour juice over fruit. Chill thorough-
ly in refrigerator. To serve, drain off juice,
lightly mix with mint and watercress. Place
on lettuce, serve with mayonnaise. Makes 6
servings.
Frozen Fruit Salad
3V2 tablespoons flour
3 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon salt
¥3 teaspoon paprika
few grains cayenne
2 egg yolks, well beaten
% cup milk
1 tablespoon melted
butter
V3 cup lemon juice
V4 cup orange section
V4 cup cherries
V4 cup pineapple
V4 cup sliced bananas
1 cup heavy cream,
whipped
lettuce
mayonnaise
Mix flour, sugar and seasonings in top of
double boiler; add egg yolks. Gradually stir
in milk. Place over hot water and cook, stirring
constantly until mixture thickens. Add butter
and lemon juice. Turn into a bowl and beat for
2 minutes then cool. Cut fruits into small pieces
and add to cooked mixture; fold in whipped
cream. Turn into freezing tray of refrigerator
and freeze for 3 to 4 hours, or until firm. Cut
in slices and top with mayonnaise. Makes 6
to 8 servings. (Continued on page 78)
RADIO MIRROR FOR BETTER LIVING
61
endmati cannot ' cwwa/ub ue Aad uw- me ah/cma.
*jVot mmn vm
THE WAY the Barbour family lives," said Teddy, "—and
the other Americans equally fortunate — is a fairy
story, a beautiful dream, a gorgeous, gilded, story-book
existence."
"That's the way I felt about all of America when I first
came to the United States," said Nicolette. "When I saw
all the good things, I became a citizen — poof! — quick like
that!"
"It's a by-product," said Paul, smiling at Teddy across
Nicolette. "The way of living of the average American
family is as much a by-product of our kind of life as are
automobiles and radios and this very plane."
They were on their way home. The roar of the big plane
was in their ears, so that they had to speak through it,
shaping their words clearly. Below them was the Atlantic;
behind them, Germany. In the rear of the plane was the
sleeping, blanket-wrapped form of Patricia Baldwin, who
had been the object of Paul and Nicolette's secret, govern-
ment-ordered search in Germany. Teddy had helped them
find her; now Teddy was returning with them to care for
Patricia on the trip and thereafter to take a vacation from
her work as a Red Cross nurse. Paul and Nicolette were
well pleased with the arrangement; only Teddy was re-
luctant— strangely so, for a girl who had been so long
away from home.
"All I know is," she went on through the roar of the
motors, "I get a tremendous satisfaction out of stuffing food
into starving babies, shooting vitamins into under-fed
mothers . . . the kind of uplifting satisfaction I never had
at home, taking the pulse of Mrs. Goldbottom, in the hos-
pital with a liver' after having stuffed herself like a
holiday goose. Or Mr. Business Executive who's got ulcers
from making too much money — "
"More likely he got them trying to save some of it from
a predatory government," Paul interrupted lightly. But
there was no stopping Teddy.
"Okay," she agreed, "so he got them worrying over
taxes. I'd like him a lot better if he got his ulcers worrying
because Palestine may die in the agony of being born,
because the face of Western Europe is going through some
plastic surgery which could easily change its former
friendly expression."
Paul turned to Nicolette, palms upturned helplessly.
"Well, Nicolette, you see the kind of daughter I raised."
62
\oa\exte
For the first time in
story form Radio Mir-
ror's Header Bonus pre-
sents, complete in this
issue, the story of Paul
and Nicolette as heard
on One Man's Family.
(Program time : Sun.,
3:30 EDT, NBC.)
W
ttm wAo nod loved aA miw/i, mid Seen ab lonelu, ab ^Jaid and \/Vlcciefte
**•' ^am^ Ib""" Bi°'«". Di, Davi,
B""m r«*—* - tST^T *" •""•-
y (W"»fred Wolfe).
"For which you should be very proud," said Nicolette
warmly. "A thinking, responsible, loving daughter — "
Paul chose to take it personally. "No," he said, thinking
of Teddy's determination to return to her work in Germany
as soon as possible, "I don't think she cares much for us
any more."
If he had slapped Teddy, the result could not have been
more electric. She gasped and went pale, and her eyes
widened as if to hold back tears. "Paul," she said in a low,
thick voice, "I — I think that's the worst thing you've ever
said to me. I- -excuse me — I've got to see how Patricia
Baldwin is resting — "
Paul started up and would have followed her, but
Nicolette put her hand on his arm. "Let her go," she said
softly. "Let her find self-control by herself."
Paul sat down, and stared at her in bewilderment. "But
what did I say9" he demanded to know.
Nicolette laughed "You are stupid, aren't you? All men
are stupid about women. I think. Teddy loves you."
"Of course she loves me," he snapped. "I adopted her
when she was eight years old. I've been a father to her — "
"I didn't mean that she loves you as a father."
Paul looked at her, and away, and back again, still unbe-
lieving. "Nicolette are you crazy?" he burst out. "First
Teddy tells me you're in love with me — oh, yes she did,
while we were waiting for you that last day in that cottage
in Nurnberg. Then she tells me that I'm in love with you
. . . and now you tell me Teddy's in love with me — "
Nicolette was unruffled. "Why else has she never mar-
ried another man? Surely she's had the opportunity. Why
else did she leave your — the Barbour — roof and devote her
life to serving humanity? Why all that — if it wasn't to find
an outlet, a relief in physical effort for the passionate devo-
tion she has for you?"
He believed her now, and immediately she felt terribly
sorry for him He looked stricken. "Never in nry most
secret thinking. . . Nicolette, I swear to you that Teddy
has never been anything but a daughter to me — "
63
64
PAUL and NICOLETTE
"Do not you think I know that?" she said gently.
"Paul, it is only when a man does not love a woman
that he is so blind he cannot see the woman's affection.
She'll probably not thank me for telling you, but I
couldn't let you go on being so blind — hurting her, and
not knowing why. You think about it." She rose, touch-
ing him lightly on the shoulder. "I'm going back and
see if I can be of help with Patricia Baldwin — and per-
haps help Teddy herself."
She made her way to the rear of the plane, found
Teddy crouched beside her charge, for all the world like
an animal that had crept away to lick its wounds in
secret.
"Still sleeping," she said in response to Nicolette's in-
quiring look. "She's so exhausted she still doesn't know
that she's on a plane within six or seven hours of New
York. Nicolette, will the facts of her rescue ever be
made public?"
"No more than the facts of her kidnapping will ever
be told." Nicolette shook her head. "Ah, she is a pretty
child — such a gentle, good, wholesome face — "
Teddy said bitterly, "The face of all America once
upon a time. Before all the world began to — " She
stopped, went on with even greater bitterness, "Teddy,
stop it! You sound like an idiot schoolgirl bemoaning
the fact that she doesn't have a date for Saturday night.
Nicolette, I'm sorry — I made an awful fool of myself out
there in front of you and Paul."
"Don't be sorry," said Nicolette. "Teddy, I wish you
would stop hurting yourself this way. Don't keep whip-
ping yourself. I know you feel that you are Paul's
daughter, but you don't love him as a daughter, and
that makes you feel that there must be something ter-
ribly unhealthy in yourself. Well, look at it this way —
you're not his daughter. Circumstances made it possible
and necessary for him to give you a father's care, but
he's no more related to you actually than he is to me."
"The law says — " Teddy began.
"The law says you must not marry, but believe me,
Teddy, if there had never been any adoption papers
signed, the law would have no objection at all to your
marrying Paul. So you see, all that stands between you
and your love is a signature at the bottom of a piece of
paper. Is that anything for a girl to condemn herself
with? So you can't marry him — but you enjoy him,
enjoy yourself; you can love him completely, whole-
heartedly, without feeling this terrible guilt you've piled
on yourself."
Teddy's eyes were fixed upon her face. There was
hope in them now, and admiration. How could she know
so much, Teddy wondered — this woman with the wise
eyes and the quick smile and the delicately accented
speech? She was like Paul; she understood more of you
than you understood yourself.
"Nicolette, you — you make me feel — I feel free, almost
human." And then, breathless with her anxiety to have
everything clear between them, she cried, "Oh, I hope
you didn't think I was ever resentful of you and Paul!
I never felt that way. I — I'm glad you're in love with
each other."
Laughter welled up in Nicolette; she stifled it quickly.
The girl was so deadly earnest, so genuinely troubled.
"Teddy," she said as earnestly, "let me tell you some-
thing. Paul and I have never once in our entire rela-
tionship discussed the subject of love, of our feelings
toward each other. I do not know about Paul, but for
certain, if you know that I'm in love with him, you know
more than I know. Now let's go back to him and put
him at his ease by letting him see that you are really
all right."
Teddy shook her head, but smiled reassuringly at
Nicolette. "In a little while. You go ahead."
Nicolette left. Teddy gazed after the sturdy figure in
the plain, practical traveling suit and low-heeled shoes.
All those weeks together, she thought, and never a word
of their feeling for each other between them? That the
feeling was there no one who saw them together could
doubt. Talk and ideas leaped between them like fire
feeding flame. And in the cottage they had shared in
Nurnberg, she had been with each of them while the
other was out on an errand that could easily be danger-
ous; she had seen each consult a watch every few min-
utes until the other returned.
Made for each other. A worn expression, but one that
applied to Paul and Nicolette. They were both citizens
Minetta Ellen and J. Anthony Smythe played husband-
and-wife in Oakland stock company productions before
becoming Mother and Father Barbour of the Family.
of the world, in the best meaning of the words. Nico-
lette, born in Central Europe, had seen her husband shot
by a firing squad at the order of a political assassin.
Paul had lost his World War One bride of two weeks in
an epidemic that swept through the little French hos-
pital like fire in a field, and after that there had never
been anyone else for him . . . until now.
They had to wake up to themselves, Teddy thought.
They must be made to see all they had, and could so
easily lose. The opportunity lay directly ahead. Paul
had invited Nicolette to stay with him at the family
house at Sea Cliff until her next government orders
came through, and she had accepted. Never mind the
ache in Teddy's own heart. Never mind the feeling that
an axe hung by a thread over her, and that the kindest
thing she could do for herself would be to cut the thread.
They reached San Francisco late on a cold and dreary
Saturday afternoon. "Good enough," said Paul, speaking
of the day and the weather. "Even the kids ought to be
on hand to welcome us on a day like this. We'll surprise
them — take a taxi and be home in no time." At the
word 'home' the three exchanged secret, sober smiles.
This was America. Cold didn't matter here, as it had
in the frigid cottage in Nurnberg. Here there was plenty
of fuel for furnaces, plenty of wood for the hearth-fires
at Sea Cliff.
On the way out Paul and Teddy briefed Nicolette on
the family, although she had heard much about them
and had met Claudia and Clifford the summer before at
Sky Ranch. First there were Father and Mother Bar-
bour, whose big house was the gathering point of their
children and grandchildren. Then there was Hazel,
oldest of the children next to Paul, and her husband,
Dan Murray, and her teen-age boys, Hank and Pinky,
and her young daughter, Margaret, Father Barbour's
favorite grandchild. There was Claudia, beautiful wife
of Nicholas Lacey and mother of fifteen-year-old Joan
and young Penelope, and, at present, foster-mother of
her widowed brother Clifford's young Skippy. Youngest
of the Barbour children was Jack, whose family was
composed of his wife, Betty, and their three small daugh-
ters, born so close together that they were like steps.
Paul proved to be an accurate prophet. With the ex-
ception of Clifford and Claudia, who were at Sky Ranch,
most of the family was at the Barbour house. Those who
were near by, in their neighboring houses, were quickly
summoned. The reunion was explosive.
It would have been enough to see Paul
alone, but that Teddy should be with him
after her long absence seemed little short
of a miracle.
Through it all, Teddy stayed close to
Nicolette, anxious to see that she wasn't
forgotten in the excitement. She need not
have worried; Nicolette was at home any-
where, and everyone liked her on sight.
Everyone, that is, but Father Barbour.
He embraced Teddy and Paul with tears
in his eyes, but clearly, he thought that
this ought to be a family reunion, with no
outsiders included. "Nicolette?" he in-
quired testily. "Haven't I heard that name
before?"
"You may have, father," Hazel answered. "She's
been Paul's traveling companion in South America, the
African Gold Coast, and Central Europe."
"Traveling companion!" he ejaculated in a voice quite
loud enough for Nicolette to hear. And when they were
introduced, he stared suspiciously at her from under his
heavy brows and barked, "Eh? Are you speaking with a
dialect?"
Nicolette laughed. "Yes," she agreed, "I'm afraid
that is just what I am doing."
"Urn," he grunted. "Well — very happy to meet you,
I'm sure." He had to say that much, for the sake of
manners. But he was not at all happy. "Nicolette," he
muttered, when Hazel had taken her upstairs to her
room. "Nicolette Moore — how does the 'Moore' fit in,
anyway? Teddy, that woman's a foreigner!"
"But, Father Barbour, such an exciting foreigner! —
And she's a friend of the
Harlans. Paul met her
last spring at Sky Ranch
when she was staying with
the Harlans on King
Mountain." Her effort to
cast a reassuring local
color over Nicolette was
wasted. Father Barbour
simply ignored her.
"Traveling over the face
of the earth as Paul's
companion! How'd she fin-
agle that, anyway?"
"She didn't," Teddy pro-
tested. "The government
sent her. They didn't even
know they were on the
same mission until they
met at the airport. There was no finagling involved."
But the old man had the last word.
"A foreigner!" he repeated. "By George, if it isn't one
thing, it's another! What's Paul thinking of, anyway?"
Paul himself didn't know, Teddy could have an-
swered, but she meant to see that he did know, as soon
as possible. The next morning, dressed not in her uni-
form, but in one of her own dresses taken from a
scented hanger in her own closet, she reached into that
same closet, drew out a length of soft scarlet wool, a
pair of mules that were just strips of gold crossed at
the instep. To these she added a bottle of her most
precious cologne, and went softly down the hall to
Nicolette's room.
Nicolette was up; her eyes widened as Teddy shook
out the scarlet negligee, waved the bottle of cologne
under her nose.
"Potent," she said. "It should make a man's head
reel. It even makes me dizzy."
"Then use it," said Teddy. "And put on the mules
and the negligee. It was brand new when I left home
and hasn't been touched since. We'll go up to Paul's
studio and give him the thrill of a lifetime."
Nicolette laughed, but her eyebrows rose. "But no,
Teddy!"
"Oh, but yes, Nicolette! When he wakes up, I want
him to see you standing there in my prettiest negligee.
Then — well!"
Some of the laughter faded from Nicolette's eyes, but
she spoke lightly. "Teddy, you're a very wicked young
woman."
"No," said Teddy, "just a very practical nurse. Now
come on — dress up, and let me do your hair."
It was Nicolette who felt like a nurse, giving in. There
was a quality so urgent about Teddy's insistence that
it seemed best to humor her. But when Teddy knocked
Margaret (Dawn Bender) .
Hazel (Bernice Berwin) .
PAUL and NICOLETTE
on Paul's door and received no answer,
Nicolette balked. "You see, Teddy, he's
still asleep."
"Of course," Teddy chuckled, turning
the knob. "Come on."
"But, Teddy, to enter a sleeping man's
room — !"
"Done every day in this house," Teddy
assured her. She led Nicolette across the
big studio room which was Paul's top-
floor retreat, to the alcove which housed
his bed. "There now," she said, "you
stand right there at the foot of the bed. Oh— is he deep
in a beautiful dream!"
"Teddy," said Nicolette, "are you sure you know what
you're doing?"
Teddy gave an odd little laugh. "You're not afraid,
are you?"
Nicolette almost said yes, though not for a reason
that Teddy would have clearly understood. "Well," she
equivocated, "I certainly don't belong in Paul Barbour's
bedroom."
"You belong in 'somebody's bedroom," Teddy re-
torted, "looking as enchanting as you do, and smelling
as scrumptious — "
Paul interrupted sleepily, without opening his eyes,
"Is that Nicolette I smell?"
"He's awake — " Nicolette sighed with relief. She
felt that she could not have whispering over the sleep-
ing man a moment longer. It was a silly, schoolgirl
prank, but it was some-
thing else, too, something
she hesitated to name.
"He's been awake all
the while," said Teddy.
"Paul, you old fraud, open
your eyes and see what
I've brought you."
"Something nice?" mum-
bled Paul. "Tell you what
— come back and see me
in an hour."
"Let him sleep — " Nico-
lette started to back away,
but Teddy caught her
wrist and held her.
"Paul," she wheedled,
"there's a glass of water
on your bedside table — "
"Help yourself," said Paul politely, and buried his
face in the pillow.
"Thanks," said Teddy. "You asked for it." She
reached for the glass. Paul sat up in a hurry, sputter-
ing and gasping.
"Teddy, you've drowned me! Oh — uh, good morning,
Nicolette."
There was just one way to carry it off, Nicolette
thought — as a joke. "So!" she exclaimed in pretended
indignation, "I've been standing here for ten minutes,
and you say 'good morning, Nicolette' only now!"
"My humblest apologies — " He rubbed his eyes and
groaned. "I'll bet I'm a handsome brute at this hour!
Need a shave, hair on end — " Then he opened his eyes
wide, and his jaw dropped. "Nicolette, what happened
to you?"
She colored faintly. "To me?" she asked innocently.
"Yes — am I seeing things, or have you shrunk? You're
smaller — you — I've always thought of you as being a
solid, sturdy, aggressive young woman, and here you
are, looking small and daintv and excessively feminine.
Teddy, what did you do to her?"
Teddy laughed triumphantly. "Just made her hair
different, put her in some yummy clothes. Remem-
ber, you're used to seeing her in her working clothes —
sub-zero working clothes, at that. Now do you like
what you see?"
"Teddy — " Nicolette stirred uneasily, and then a knock
on the door saved her.
"Paul, are you awake?" It was Father Barbour's voice.
"Just a minute, Dad," Paul called. Teddy gasped and
seized Nicolette's arm. "Through the side door," she
whispered, "into my room — "
They made it just in time. Father Barbour entered
the studio by one door a split-second after they'd left
by another. From Teddy's (Continued on page 100)
Paul (Michael Raffetto).
65
.
All Times Below Are EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
For Correct CENTRAL DAYLIGHT TIME, Subtract One Hour
ff]| B*m >!■
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Earl Wild
Carolina Calling
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story to Order
Words and Music
People's Church
Tone Tapestries
White Rabbit Line
News
E. Power Biggs
Trinity Choir of
St. Paul's Chapel
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Bible Highlights
Voices Down The
Wind
Radio Bible Class
Voice of Prophecy
Message of Israel
Southernaires
Church of the Air
Church of the Air
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
News Highlights
Solitaire Time
Christian Reform
Church
Reviewing Stand
Fine Arts Quartette
Hour of Faith
Howard K. Smith
The News Makers
Salt Lake Tabernacle
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Timely Topics
Texas Jim Robertson
Invitation to Learning
12:15
12:30
Eternal Light
Lutheran Hour
People's Platform
12:45
On Trial
1:00
America United
William L. Shirer
Sam Pettengill
1:15
Mutual Music Box
Edward "Ted"
Weeks
1:30
Chicago Round Table
Music
National Vespers
Tell It Again
1:45
2:00
First Piano Quartet
Army Air Force
This Week Around
You Are There
2:15
Show
the World
2:30
Robert Merrill
Bill Cunningham
Mr. President
Joseph C. Harsch
2:45
Veteran's Information
Drama
Elmo Roper
3:00
Eddy Howard
Charlie's House
Harrison Woods
CBS Symphony
3:15
The Almanac
Orch.
3:30
One Man's Family
Life Begins at 80
Dance Music
3:45
4:00
The Quiz Kids
House of Mystery
4:15
Thinking Allowed
4:30
News
True Detective
Make Mine Music
4:45
Living— 1948
5:00
Under Arrest
Personal Autograph
5:15
Musical
Here's to You
5:30
Jane Pickens
What Makes You
Carle Comes Calling
5:45
Tick?
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
The Catholic Hour
Hollywood Star
Preview
Those Websters
Nick Carter
Drew Pearson
Don Gardner
Family Hour
The Pause That Re-
freshes on the Air
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Rexall Summer
Theater
Mystery Playhouse
Behind the Front
Page
1 Love Adventure
Johnny Fletcher
Gene Autry
Blondie
8
8
8
8
00
15
30
45
00
15
30
45
Robert Shaw's
Chorale
RFD America
A. L. Alexander
Jimmie Fidler
Twin Views of News
Stop the Music
Sam Spade
Man Called X
9
9
9
<!
Manhattan Merry-
Go- Round
American Album
Meet Me at Parky's
It's A Living
Walter Winchell
Louella Parsons
Strike It Rich
10
If)
in
00
15
30
Take It or Leave It
Horace Heidt
Voice of Strings
Clary's Gazette
Jimmie Fidler
Shorty Bell with
Mickey Rooney
Escape
JACKSON HECK— unmarried native
New Yorker now heard as Philo Vance
and on many other network shows.
66
MARGO WHITEMAN— the mistress
of ceremonies on Tomorrow's Tops,
new ABC teen-age talent program,
heard Mondays at 9:00 P.M., EDT.
Margo is seventeen herself; a student
at Marymount; an ardent horsewoman;
has more right than anyone to call
Paul Whiteman by his nickname —
"Pops" is her father. She made her
radio debut when she substituted for
him at the mike because he had a cold.
W*m
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in New
York
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Sing Along
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love and Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
U. S. Navy Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Martin Block Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Capt. Barney's Trea-
sure Chest
Superman
Adventure Parade
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
In My Opinion
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
The Lone Ranger
Robert Q. Lewis
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
First Piano Quartet
Voice of Firestone
The Falcon
Casebook of Gregory
Hood
Billy Rose
Sound Off
Stars in the Night
Inner Sanctum
Cabin 13-13
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Telephone Hour
Dr. 1. Q.
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Quiet Please
Tomorrow's Tops
Treasury Band
Local Programs
10:00
10:15
10:30
Contented Program
Fred Waring
Fishing and Hunting
Club
Dance Orch.
Arthur Gaeth
Earl Godwin
Vaughn Monroe
Romance
PHILLIPS CAR LI V — MBS Vice
President in Charge of Programs, cele-
brates twenty-five years in radio. With
Graham McNamee, on WEAF, he aired
World Series, championship boxing
bouts, the Pan-American Conference,
play-by-play football games, during
radio's crystal set days. His was the
first coast-to-coast audience participa-
tion program, Breakfast at Sardi's. He
transferred from NBC to MBS in '44.
1 3 ?i£rf''.
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine Of The Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Sin:j Along
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst. in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
B^BB-ai B>m W^m EH ■
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:00
8:45
Do You Remember
News
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Club Time
Music For You
Sing Alon
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
Service Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Art Van Damme
Cedric Foster
Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Quartet
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen For A Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Martin Block Show
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Misc. Programs
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Capt. Barney's Trea-
sure Chest
Dick Tracy
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Superman
Terry and Pirates
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Jack Armstrong
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Marine Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
NBC Concert Orch.
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
The Martin Block
Show
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
The Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Capt. Barney's Trea-
sure Chest
Superman
Tom Mix
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Talks
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Adrian Rollini Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Robert Q. Lewis
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Dennis Day
The New Jack Pearl
Show
Special Agent
High Adventure
Billy Rose
On Stage America
Mr. Chameleon
Dr. Christian
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Tex and Jinx
Mr. District Attorney
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Racket Smashers
Abbott and Costello
Go For the House
Your Song and Mine
Harvest of Stars
with James Melton
10:00
10:15
10:30
The Big Story
Opinion-Aire
California Melodies
Gordon Mac Rae
Music By Maupin
The Whistler
Capitol Cloak Room
6:00
John MacVane
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Frontiers of Science
6:30
Local Programs
Avenir de Manfred
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Robert Q. Lewis
7:15
News of the World
Alvin Heifer
Elmer Davis
7:30
Lennie Herman
Quintet
News
Green Hornet Drama
Club 15
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Dinah Shore, Harry
James and Johnny
Mysterious Traveler
Youth Asks the
Government
Mystery Theater
8:15
Mercer
Edwin D. Cantham
8:30
Carmen Cavallaro
America's Town
Mr. and Mrs. North
8:55
Billy Rose
Meeting of the Air
9:00
Adventures of the
Gabriel Heatter
We, The People
9:15
Thin Man
Radio Newsreel
Local Programs
9:30
Call the Police
Lone Wolf
Hit The Jackpot
9:45
10:00
Meet Corliss Archer
Public Defender
NAM Series
Studio One
10:15
10:30
Evening With Rom-
berg
Dance Orchestra
Labor U. S. A.
MARY MARTHA BRINEY —leaves
her home in Coraopolis Heights, near
Pittsburgh, where she is Mrs. R. A.
Martin, and entrains for New York
each Wednesday to appear as soprano
star of Your Song and Mine, heard on
CBS at 9:00 P.M.. EDT. Her singing
career began in 1937. She has played
leads in musical comedy and operetta
and sung in concert but this is her
first important radio appearance.
67
furagr
"::!:::■ :/a-:.:/::;-s:^:z
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Dorothy Kilgallen
Music for You
S.ng Along
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
HANS CONREID— familiar to those
who dial CBS, Mondays at 10 P.M.,
EDT. as Irma's friend, Professor
Kropotkin, also has a better Japanese
accent than most Japanese! (He got
it helping to set up radio stations in
Tokyo and Korea.) Ten years ago,
when he was playing a Shakespearean
series with John Barrymore, he was
called "one of the most versatile ac-
tors I've ever seen," by John himself.
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Service Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Art Van Damme
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Quartet
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen for a Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Martin Block Show
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
Paul Whiteman Club
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When a Girl Marries
Capt. Barney's Trea-
sure Chest
Dick Tracy
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Superman
Terry and Pirates
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Adventure Parade
Jack Armstrong
The Chicagoans
5:45 Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Of Men and Books
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Lawrence Week
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Henry Morgan Show
Robert Q. Lewis
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Armco Services
Revue
New Faces
Lucky Partners
Talent Hunt
Billy Rose
Front Page
Criminal Casebook
Dr. Standish
Mr. Keen
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
N.elson Eddy-Dorothy
Kirsten
Ray Noble
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Revere Revue
Background For
Stardom
Candid Microphone
Suspense
Crime Photographer
10:00
10:15
10:30
Bob Hawk Show
The Time. The Place
and The Tune
Family Theatre
Boxing Bouts
Hallmark Playhouse
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
The Listening Post
Music for You
Sing Along
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bfst. in H'wood
Galen Drake
Ted Malone
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
U. S. Marine Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Campus Salute
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Queen for a Day
Martin Block Show
Red Hook 31
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Capt. Barney's Trea-
sure Chest
Superman
Adventure Parade
Tom Mix
Welcome Travelers Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Ladies Be Seated
Paul Whiteman Club
Treasury Band Show
Dick Tracy
Terry and Pirates
Jack Armstrong
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
68
JOAN TOMPKINS— landed her first
radio role because of her stage-earned
prominence. Now she's starred in This
is Nora Drake and a featured player
in David Harum, The Second Mrs.
Burton and other network shows and
lucky if she can find a few hours just
to see a Broadway play. Joan was
born in New York and brought up
and educated in nearby Mount Vernon.
She's married to Bruce MacFarlane
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
News
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Report from the
United Nations
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Mary Osborn Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Robert Q. Lewis
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Cities Service Band
of America
There's Always A
Woman
Leave It to the Girls
Billy Rose
The Fat Man
This Is Your FBI
Mr. Ace and Jane
Danny Thomas
9:00
9:15
9:30
First Piano Quartet
Waltz Time
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Break the Bank
The Sheriff
Musicomedy
10:00
10:15
10:30
Mysiory Theater
Sports
Meet the Press
Tex Beneke
Boxing Bouts
Everybody Wins,
Phil Baker
Spotlight Revue
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story Shop
Mind Your Manners
Robert Hurleigh
Practical Gardner
Shoppers Special
CBS News of America
Renfro Valley Folks
Garden Gate
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Frank Merriwell
Archie Andrews
Bill Harrington
Ozark Valley Folks
This Is For You
Johnny Thompson
Hollywood Headlines
Buddy Weed Trio
Red Barber's Club-
house
Mary Lee Taylor
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
Meet the Meeks
SmilirV Ed McConnell
Movie Matinee
Teen Timer's Club
Abbott and Costello
Let's Pretend
Junior Miss
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Arthur Barriault
Campus Capers
Junior Junction
Theatre of Today
12:15
Public Affairs
12:30
Coffee With Congress
American Farmer
Stars Over Hollywood
12:45
This Week in Wash-
ington
1:00
Nat'l Farm Home
Alan Lomax
Maggi McNellis,
Grand Central Sta.
1:15
Herb Sheldon
1:30
Edmond Tomlinson
Dance Orch.
Speaking of Songs
County Fair
1:45
Report From Europe
2:00
Music For The
Woody Herman's
Fascinating Rhythm
Give and Take
2:15
Moment
Orch.
2:30
Salute to Veterans
Bands For Bonds
Hitching Post Variety
Country Journal
2:45
3:00
Dance Orch.
Piano Playhouse
Report from Overseas
3:15
Adventures in
Science
3:30
Local Programs
Sports Parade
ABC Symphony
Cross-Section U.S.A.
3:45
Orch.
4:00
Charlie Slocum
Dave Stephen Orch.
4:15
Horse Race
Brooklyn Handicap
4:30
Local Programs
Racing
Race
4:45
First Church of
Christ Science
5:00
Dizzy Dean Sports-
cast
Take A Number
Treasury Band Show
Make Way For
Youth
5:15
Lassie Show
5:30
Dr. I. Q. Jr.
True or False
Melodies to Remem-
ber
Saturday at the
Chase
5:45
Dorothy Guldheim
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Peter Roberts
Art of Living
NBC Symphony
Dance Orchestra
Ernie Felice Quartet
Profits of Prayer
Harry Wismer
Jack Beall
News from Wash-
ington
In My Opinion
Red Barber Sports
Show
Larry Lesueur
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Curtain Time
Hawaii Calls
What's the Name of
That Song
Challenge of the
Yukon
Famous Jury Trials
St. Louis Municipal
Opera
Saturday Night
Serenade
8:00
8:15
5:30
8:45
Life of Riley
Truth or Conse-
quences
Twenty Questions
Stop Me If You've
Heard This One
Ross Dolan,
Detective
The Amazing Mr.
Malone
Sing It Again
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Your Hit Parade
Can You Top This
Three For The
Money
Gangsters
What's My Name
Joan Davis Time
It Pays To Be
Ignorant
10:00
10:15
10:30
Radio City Playhouse
Grand Ole Opry
Theater of the Air
Professor Quiz
Hayloft Hoedown
Let's Dance, America
JANE PICKENS— back on the air-
waves after two years' absence and
heard Sundays, 5:30 P.M., EDT, over
NBC. Jane began her radio career in
a trio formed with her sisters, Patti
and Helen, but Helen, then Patti mar-
ried and left radio. Jane went on as
soloist in musical comedies, revues
and nightclubs and had her own radio
program, American Melody Hour.
A CONSOLE radio phonograph
combination that was specially
designed to blend with modern
furnishings is the Stewart-Warner
"Interpreter." The technical-
minded will be interested in the
electro-hush reproducer, while the
furniture-minded would like to
know that it is finished in either
Blond Mahogany ($185.00) or nat-
ural mahogany ($180.00).
Stewart- Warner "Interpreter."
The 1948 version of RCA Vic-
tor's "Globe Trotter" is just as
effective and beautiful as ever,
but about ten dollars less than
the original model. The set will
operate on AC*, DC or Battery
and comes in a maroon plastic
and aluminum streamliner case.
Opening or closing the lid also
operates the set.
Globe Trotter: very portable
If it's the unusual set
you're after, take a peek at
Stromberg-Carlson's model
called The Mandarin. It's
a sauve masterpiece of mod-
ern design that comes in
ribbon striped mahogany
veneer with a Chinese carv-
ing reproduction in bas re-
lief. More, it's FM and AM
and contains an excellent
record player. It's less than
$500.00 for this special set.
Dignified "Mandarin."
Crosley's model 148CR,
called the Carrollton, is an-
other good radio-phono-
graph combination that
doesn't look like a cabinet
maker's nightmare. A beau-
tiful cabinet of 18th Century
inspired styling houses an
excellent radio receiver
(AM, FM, Shortwave) and
an automatic record chang-
er. There's also plenty of
room for album storage on
both sides of the cabinet.
Carrollton: storage, too.
Little Sentinel: little price.
FM performance in a small
compact package is the feature
of the new Sentinel model
315-W. Housed in an attractive
walnut plastic cabinet is a 6
tube AM-FM receiver. This
table model is extremely low-
priced for its type of radio set.
Best of all. it doesn't require
external antenna except in ex-
tremely unusual conditions.
69
entries. Once we won a whole two dol-
lars!"
Our fabulous Hidden City contest sup-
plied more than the usual amount of
amusement for the Leadinghouse family.
To identify the clues given week by
week on the twenty radio programs they
pored over geography books to find lati-
tude and longitude, and made a game of
trying to outguess each other. Florence,
the housekeeping authority, added the
important twenty-five words. They
stripped four box tops, dropped their
entries into the mail, and forget them.
They had other, more crucial things
to think about, for Florence was wor-
ried, seriously worried.
HER FATHER, now retired to Phoenix,
Arizona, had developed a serious
heart ailment which brought with it
costs exceeding his income. Bill's Up-
town Sports and Radio shop at 4803
Broadway comfortably supplies the
needs of the Leadinghouse family, but
there's a limit to how far its revenue
will stretch.
It was her problem, Florence decided.
She wanted to help her father, but she
did not want either to burden her hus-
band or risk denying her sons things
they should have. She could solve it
only by going back to work.
She planned to start her job hunt as
soon as overdue decorators finished work
on her apartment. It would be wise,
too, she concluded, to invest in a new
permanent while she still had free time.
She followed her beauty shop appoint-
ment by having dinner with a woman
friend and seeing a show. It was almost
10 P.M. when she returned home.
Dave, who has a theoretical 9 P.M.
bedtime, was still awake. What's more,
he was jumping up and down with ex-
citement. His "Hey, Mom!" started as
soon as she turned her key in the door.
"There was a man here looking for you.
He phoned. Then he came out here."
With as much severity as she could
muster, Florence demanded, "Dave, why
aren't you in bed?"
"Honest, Mom, the man was here. He
says you won a prize. And you better be
up by 7:30 tomorrow morning, because
he's coming back then."
"Nonsense. You just thought up a
new excuse for not being in bed. Get
going."
David was indignant. "He was too,
here. And he's coming back."
"I don't believe it."
"Wanna bet? Wanna bet?"
"I bet."
"How much you bet, Mom?"
For fast settling, Florence said, "I bet
you a quarter. Get to bed."
Breakfast the next day was no pro-
duction number at the Leadinghouse
menage. Bill, who had been at the
store with customers until all the tele-
vision programs went off the air, was
still asleep. Jack would dive from
covers to clothes just in time to get to
work. David, however, is at the per-
petually hungry age. Wrapped in a
bathrobe, Florence was getting his
breakfast when the doorbell rang.
"It's that man," yelled David.
Gags in the Leadinghouse family
take elaborate staging. Florence thought
her son had cooked this one up with a
friend from down the street.
Unperturbed, she answered, "Tell him
to come right to the kitchen."
In walked H. E. Purcell, Proctor and
Gamble's manager for Chicago.
Traveler of the Month
(Continued from page 55)
Florence confided to use later, "I cer-
tainly wasn't dressed for company. The
kitchen was, though. You would have
thought we set the stage. Standing in
plain sight, right under the sink where
Dave had put them when he unpacked
the groceries, were four different P&G
products."
Fussed by having Dave's joke turned
real, she scarcely understood her early
morning caller's statement that she was
being considered for one of the minor
prizes in the Hidden City contest.
Because we at Welcome Travelers
wanted our College Inn and radio audi-
ence to hear what happens when a per-
son is handed a sudden fortune, no one
told Mrs. Leadinghouse what she actu-
ally had won. We held to that "minor
prize" line, and invited her to appear.
Getting down to Hotel Sherman that
day turned into such a problem for her
that she came close to asking us to mail
the check. The decorators were at work
in her apartment and she felt she should
be home. Shy about appearing before the
audience, she dreaded arriving alone.
Her husband had an appointment, and
her best friend, Mrs. Lillian Smith,
would be in Augustana Hospital having
a major operation just at the time Mrs.
Leadinghouse would go on the air.
The boys, reminding her they had a
share in the prize, wanted to come along,
but Florence vetoed the idea. David,
although permitted to skip school in the
morning, should return to classes as
quickly as possible. Jack had an insur-
ance examination. Particularly since
none of them knew exactly what the
prize would be, the kids protested they
couldn't stand the suspense.
Florence compromised. "If it's a hun-
dred dollars," she told them, "you can
come downtown to help me spend it."
Her grocer, too, had been kept in the
dark and told only that one of his cus-
tomers had won an award, and that he,
too, would receive a prize.
OUR CROWD in the College Inn sensed
something was in the air. They
seemed more excited than she when I
asked if she knew how much she had
won. She presumed, she answered, that
since it was a minor prize it would be a
hundred dollars.
"Could you use some extra money?" I
asked.
She flashed a tremulous smile. "Of
course I could. My father is ill."
I brought out the check, keeping my
thumb over the amount.
"Here's the check, made out to you.
Read it."
"I have to get my glasses."
She fumbled in her purse. By that
time, the paper trembled in my hand.
Specs in place, she still hesitated.
"What is the name of the bank?" I
prompted.
"Guaranty Trust Company of New
York. . . ." She seemed puzzled.
I began to wonder if I could stand the
suspense myself. "What's the next line?"
"Mrs. Florence Leadinghouse, 1429
Edgewater Avenue, Chicago. . . ."
"Now the amount. See if the hundred
dollars is correct. Read the figure."
I lifted my thumb.
Mrs. Leadinghouse drew a breath. As
though hypnotized, she started to read.
"Twenty — five — thou — " The words
turned into a shriek.
Her face drained dead white. We had
been afraid she might faint. We had a
doctor and nurse standing by.
Still unbelieving, her lips moved to
say, "Twenty-five thousand dollars."
But the words had no sound.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Laugh-
ing and crying at once, she flung her
arms around me and kissed me. The
news photographers closed in. The
crowd went wild.
When both of us got our voices back,
I asked the inevitable questions about
what she would do with the money.
Her father came first. As soon as pos-
sible, she would go to Phoenix to see
him. Later, I learned that he had heard
the show and shared the thrill.
FLORENCE LEADINGHOUSE'S real
concern in that joyous moment was
for her husband and her boys. Bill
would have heard the program at his
store. David, she suspected, had an ear
glued to the family radio, but Jack
didn't know. She phoned his office.
While we were on the air, a bit of
drama had been going on at Kemper In-
surance company. Jack was writing his
examination, but two of his friends had
brought in a portable receiver and
sneaked off to the washroom to listen.
Hearing the fabulous award, they
rushed to find him. When people tell
him his mother was white as a sheet,
Jack replies, "You should have seen
those guys."
"Those guys" had also been known to
concoct involved practical jokes. When
they rushed to Jack, he countered their
excited shrieks with the flat statement,
"You're kidding."
"But it's twenty-five thousand dol-
lars," they protested.
Jack still didn't believe it. The ex-
citement spread. A breathless crowd
had gathered around his desk when the
phone rang. When Mrs. Leadinghouse
confirmed the report, it was her six-
footer's turn to consider fainting.
Mrs. Leadinghouse's first expenditure
out of her $25,000 was twenty-five cents.
The man had come back.
Henry Jung, her grocer, who came to
the broadcast expecting to receive 'two
tickets to a stage show, drove home his
prize, a shiny new de luxe Ford sedan.
Mrs. Leadinghouse has gone on no
spending sprees. Her major concerns
after receiving the fortune were to get
the house back in order after the deco-
rating job was finished, and to help her
friend, Mrs. Smith, through those crucial
days which follow a major operation.
Besieged by telephone calls from per-
sons who wanted to talk to her and con-
gratulate her, she turned for advice to
Mrs. Florence Hubbard, the department
store saleswoman who won the Walking
Man contest. The two luckiest women
of the year liked each other instantly,
and immediately plotted a joint open
house for their friends.
Beyond that, she hasn't planned much.
Perhaps the family will celebrate by
purchasing a lakeside cottage. The only
thing the Leadinghouse family likes bet-
ter than golf is fishing.
The really wonderful thing to
Florence is that she will now be able
to give her father the little luxuries she
wants him to have.
David, the lad who follows contests,
and who has always been certain the
family would win a big one, has a
graphic answer. "Change it all into one
dollar bills and try to carry it home.
Then you'll believe it. Twenty-five
thousand dollars is an awful bale of
money!"
eC tOUcAedJ &■ P& An incandescent,
star quality in the Duchess of Leinster's face
sends her loveliness out to you — makes you feel
the graciousness that is her inmost self.
Your face is the keynote of your inner self. It
is expressing You every minute — your spirit, your
disposition, your habits. Help it then to reveal
you clearly — as you want to be.
The Duchess' complexion is radiant, glowing-clear and silken-smooth
a
I have an. unbreakable rule
for fresh, soft shin. _
1 have an unbreakable rule for fresh,
soft skin — Pond's Cold Cream," this
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and work magic on your face today. See
how Pond's "Outside-Inside" Face
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Now . . . see your new face ! It's alive !
Rosy! Clean! Soft! It has a cleanliness
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Jayj .
XH7CJFTJEJSS €>f JLEJATSTEIl
Rosy! Clean! Soft! Your
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You'll want to give your face this new rewarding Pond's treatment
every single day (and of course always at bedtime) . It literally works
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From the Outside — soft, cool Pond's Cold Cream wraps itself around
the surface dirt and make-up, as you massage — sweeps all cleanly
away, as you tissue off. From the Inside — every step quickens
beauty-giving circulation — speeds tiny blood
vessels in their work of bringing in
skin-cell food, and carrying
away skin-cell waste.
Skin loveliness takes
renewing every day. Bring
your skin fresh loveliness this
rewarding Pond^s way. It is beauty
care you'll never want to skip.
Don't wait one more day to do it.
Pond's—
limn a i
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other face cream
71
It takes
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Tampax is "a different kind" of monthly
sanitary protection because it is worn
internally. Yet notwithstanding this rad-
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registered nurses shows 45% have already
adopted Tampax for their own use. . . .
Invented by a doctor, the hy-
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College girls too ....
Count the college girls in,
whenever improved modern methods are
offered. Tampax sales actually soar in
women's college towns. And no wonder!
No belts or pins for Tampax means no
bulges or ridges under a girl's sleek for-
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.... the young married set
Another recent survey shows
the young married group
"leading the way" for Tam-
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Step up and ask your questions ; we'll try to give the answers
FLORENCE HALOP
RELAX, BOYS
Dear Editor:
Could you please
tell me who played
"Hotbreath Houli-
han" on the Jimmy
Durante program?
I would also appre-
ciate your printing
a picture of her in
your magazine. To
tell the truth I al-
ways waited to hear
her come on the show and say, "Relax
boys, it's Hotbreath Houlihan." Could you
also tell me if she is heard on any other
program?
Mr. G. K.
Boston, Mass.
Yes — Florence Halop, alias Hotbreath
Houlihan, is also Miss Duffy on Duffy's
Tavern which will return to the air on
October 6th. Miss Halop's Brooklynese jar-
gon comes easily as she was born in
Brooklyn and is the sister of one of the
original Dead End Kids.
PHIL BAKER'S
BACK
Dear Editor:
Will you please
inform me as to the
night and station. of
Phil Baker's new
show on the air. We
know he's on the
air again but don't
know when.
Mrs. C. B.
Amsterdam, N. Y.
PHIL, BAKER
After a too-long absence from radio, Phil
Baker returned last Spring with a show
called Everybody Wins. Tune in on Fridays
at 10:00 P.M., EDT on the CBS network.
THE LASS WITH
THE DELICATE
AIR
Dear Editor:
Would like very
much to know if
Evelyn Knight is on
the air. She is by
far the favorite
songstress in our
family.
Miss D. D.
Cedar Rapids, Iowa
EVELYN KNIGHT
19.
You'll be happy to hear that Evelyn can
be heard Wednesdays on the Texaco Star
Theatre (10:30 P.M., EST, ABC) on which
she co-stars with Gordon MacRae.
SHE'S PEGGY
Dear Editor:
Pepper Young's
family is my favor-
ite serial. Does the
girl who plays Peg-
gy Young look as
pleasant as she
sounds?
Miss M. D.
Richmond Hill, N.Y.
She certainly BETTY WRAGGE
does! And here's a picture of Betty Wragge
(she's Peggy) to prove it. Betty made her
radio debut in a children's program way
back in 1927 and since then has followed
a long succession of juicy parts in shows
such as March of Time, Lux Radio Theatre,
We The People, and Texaco Star Theatre
with frequent outs for Broadway roles. In
1936 when the sponsors of a new serial
called Red Davis (later, the title was
changed to Pepper Young's Family) were
looking for a typical American girl for a
featured role, Betty won the audition and
has played the role of Peggy ever since.
RFD AMERICA
Dear Editor:
There is a farm
program which I
think originates in
Chicago — a quiz
program for farm
families. Could you
tell me about this
program — also the
time and station?
Mrs. E. L. M.
Keene, N. H.
ED BOTTCHER
RFD America (Sundays, NBC, 2:00 P.M.
EDT) is what you have in mind — and a
lively program it is, too. The contestants
are farmers who compete for awards which
sometimes include a ten-year supply of
overalls and wire fencing. The winner is
dubbed "Master Farmer of the Week" and
returns the following week to defend his
title against three new contestants. 41-year-
old Ed Boucher, whose only previous radio
experience was as an eight-time winner on
the same show, is the M. C. Ed commutes
to Chicago weekly from his 153-acre farm
near Hanceville, Ala., for broadcasts.
FOR YOUR INFORMATION— If there's
something you want to know about
radio, write to Information Booth,
Radio Mirror. 205 E. 42nd St., N. Y. We'll
answer if we can either in Information
Booth or by mail — but be sure to sign
full name and address, and attach this
box to your letter.
HL&, J*^
AVA GARDNER is adorable indeed as she plays opposite ROBERT WALKER
in Universal-International's "ONE TOUCH OF VENUS"
fcC/W****
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SIZE
1ST COLOR CHOICE
2ND COLOR CHOICE
74
NAME
ADDRESS.
CITY
-ZONE STATE.
Bride and Groom
(Continued from page 45)
our Bride and Groom radio program.
Methods of proposal, also, refuse to
fall into any pattern.
But it's in the department of "Reasons
For Falling in Love" that we've found
the greatest variation. I remember the
first time Charlene Koroske of Lansing,
Michigan, and Edmond Read, Jr. of
Glendale, California, came to our pro-
gram-studio to see about being married
in connection with the broadcast. When
I asked Charlene how she and Edmond
had fallen in love with each other, she
laughed and said, "Well, I guess it was
because of half a sandwich, half an or-
ange, half a banana — plus a huge trout
named 'Pappy'l"
II OT even three years of talking daily
II with engaged couples and newly-
weds had prepared me for that; but
Charlene and Edmond assured me there
was a logical story that went with it —
a story which turned out to be one of
the most intriguing romances ever told
on Bride and Groom.
It had begun many months before in
Los Angeles, where Ed was attending a
school of photography and Charlene
was enrolled in a school for models. To
provide practical experience, the two
schools made arrangements for the girls
to model some formal gowns while the
photography-students took pictures.
"I was lucky enough to draw Edmond
as my photographer," explained Char-
lene. "I liked him from the first, and
I kind of thought he liked me, too. For
one thing, even though the other pho-
tographers left the minute they finished
their assignments, Edmond remained in
the studio. But he was too bashful to
talk to me — instead, he started discuss-
ing fishing with a group of fellows."
That might have ended the story
right there, but Charlene very femi-
ninely decided to end the impasse by
entering into the discussion of what was
obviously Ed's favorite sport. "I
thought she used some funny terms for
a girl who was supposed to be a fishing-
fan," Ed laughed, "but she seemed so
sincerely interested that I thought 'Ah,
a kindred spirit — as well as a cute gal!"
Charlene enjoyed their talk, except
for two things. First, she had never
gone fishing in her life and didn't think
she'd like it if she did go. Second, it
was now late afternoon and Charlene
hadn't eaten a bite since breakfast. But
how could a girl bring up the subject of
mere food, while listening to Ed's story
about a fabulous trout named Pappy?
It seemed the trout had become al-
most a legend at Ed's favorite fishing
spot, not only for its unusual size but
also for its skill in eluding the hook.
Every fisherman in the district was
after Pappy, and the one who landed
him would be the recognized champ.
"And I'm going to be the one," Ed was
saying enthusiastically. "I've got a
brand-new fly that'll fool even Pappy.
Why, I'd rather fish than eat!"
Perhaps the word reminded him of
the time, for he turned apologetically to
Charlene, saying, "Say, you must be
getting hungry. How about having
lunch with me?"
Charlene brightened immediately —
now she was sure she liked Ed. And
how lucky that they'd met here at the
photography studio, only a block or two
from the famous Sunset Strip. With
visions of a small table at one of the
exclusive cafes, she said, "I'd love to.
But let's choose some quiet place, so we
can go on talking about fishing!"
The next moment she realized she'd
overplayed the role, for Ed grinned
happily and said, "Swell; I brought a
lunch from home, we can sit in the park
and share that."
Charlene still laughs at the remem-
brance of that first "lunch-date" with
Edmond. "It was my own fault — I'd
put on such a show of being an ardent
angler, that Ed just took it for granted
that it didn't matter where or what we
ate, long as we could discuss fishing! By
that time, I was so hungry that it didn't
matter to me, either — just so we ate."
They ate something, all right. The
lunch, a small package carried casually
in Ed's side pocket, consisted of one
sandwich, one orange, and one banana!
Ed carefully divided each item in half,
explaining, "I didn't expect company, or
I'd have brought more. You see, I'm
on a diet."
"Even then, I still thought he was
just about the nicest person I'd ever
met," Charlene said, "but when he
asked me for a date for later that week.
I made up my mind to eat a hearty
lunch before I went!"
Ed made up for that first lunch by
taking her to one of the nicest restau-
rants on the Strip for the nicest dinner
on the menu. But fishing was still the
sole topic of conversation. "Several
times that evening Ed would look at me
sort of admiringly, and start to say
something, then switch the conversation
right back to discussion of bait."
"It was because she'd thoroughly
convinced me that she was the world's
greatest fishing fan," Ed explained. "I
kept wanting to talk about all the things
that go with falling head-over-heels in
love; but I thought she was interested
in me only because I liked to fish, too!"
OTHER dates followed— including
Sunday trips to the beautiful Mojave
Desert, covering photographic assign-
ments for magazines and newspapers —
and finally Ed and Charlene got around
to discussing some of the "things that
go with falling head-over-heels in
love." Charlene, realizing that this was
no casual friendship, and liking Ed more
and more with each meeting, tried to
summon up enough courage to admit
that she was a fraud as far as being a
fishing-fan was concerned. But Ed
chose that moment to invite her on an
extra-special date.
"We'll drive up to Big Bear Lake
Sunday — that's where Pappy, the trout,
is!"
It was the final accolade — a fisherman
inviting a girl to his special fishing spot.
Charlene dismissed the idea of confess-
ing; instead, she spent the week reading
up on "How To Fish," and buying a
rod and reel."
Sunday was a perfect day; and the
drive out Rim o' The World highway,
past Lake Arrowhead, to Big Bear Lake,
was a perfect setting for a boy and a
girl in love. But just as they drove up
to the shore of Big Bear Lake, clouds
obscured the sun, a cold wind started
blowing across the water — they were in
for a storm.
"I tried to keep from shivering, as we
got into the boat, and Ed started row-
ing for the place where he'd seen the
big trout," Charlene said. "I kept
thinking of how much I wanted to get in
out of the rain and into a warm place,
but I knew fishermen didn't."
"And I was (Continued on page 76)
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(Continued from page 74) thinking the
same thing," Ed laughed, "But I was
afraid to suggest it."
When they got to the fishing spot,
Ed started casting, while Charlene tried
to figure out the mystery of how to pre-
pare her rod, tie on a fly, and all the
other intricate things that any self-re-
specting fisherman would have known.
"I kept getting it more and more
tangled up," she said. "I noticed Ed
was watching me sort of puzzledly, so
I decided to make my cast whether I
was ready or not."
Her cast probably set a new world's
record for awkwardness. First, she al-
most upset the boat; second, her hook
just missed embedding itself in the
dodging Edmond; and third, despite all
the vigor she had put into the effort, her
fly landed two feet from the boat.
Ed's look of puzzlement was getting
more pronounced than ever, and Char-
lene faced the inevitable — she would
have to confess that she knew nothing
about fishing and cared less. But just
as she opened her mouth, a trout at least
a foot and a half in length lunged
through the water in front of her,
grabbed her trout-fly, and raced away.
It was Pappy! On the very first cast
of her life, Charlene had hooked the
champion trout!
Her reel screamed as the huge trout
raced away with her line. "Play him!
Give him slack!" Ed was calling, beside
himself with excitement.
It was too late — all the line was out,
and the improperly-tied knot was no
match for the express-like speed of the
trout. The fly parted, and Pappy was
gone as quickly as he had come. For
a moment, the boy and the girl just
stared at each other, then Ed said, "You
. . . you let him get away."
Sudden warm tears joined the cold
raindrops on Charlene's cheeks, and her
reserve was gone as she sobbed, "I
couldn't help it! I don't know how to
fish! I've never done it before in my
life — I always hated the idea!"
It seemed to be the end of everything.
"From the first, I'd taken it for granted
that it was only my pretended interest
in fishing that had attracted Edmond,"
said Charlene. "And now, for him to
know that I didn't know, and hadn't
cared, anything about the sport that
seemed to be so important to him!"
"Imagine how I felt," Edmond said.
"Here I'd been talking fishing to her
every time we met. Partly, of course,
because it is my favorite sport; but also
because I thought it was the one thing
in which she was interested. What a
dope I must have seemed!"
But suddenly a thought came to him
— if Charlene had pretended about
liking to fish, knowing it was his hobby,
then that must mean she ... He didn't
finish the sentence in his mind; instead,
the boat was wobbling dangerously
again as he drew her into his arms.
"All the fishing in the world isn't one-
millionth as important as this one mo-
ment with you," he said softly. Char-
lene's answer was the raising of her lips
to meet his, in a kiss that said all the
things mere words can never say.
But it was to turn out even more per-
fectly. When Edmond finally said, "Let's
get out of this rain, and forget about
fishing," Charlene shook her head.
"No," she said. "I told you I hated
fishing; but that was before I had ever
done any. The thrill I got from feeling
Pappy when he struck at my trout-fly —
rain or no rain, I want to stay here and
keep fishing!"
She was serious about it, too. In fact,
by the time they announced their en-
gagement, there was no greater fishing
enthusiast in all Southern California!
You should have seen their faces
when, on their wedding day broadcast,
we told them, "You're to be flown by
Western Air Line to Lake Coeur
d'Alene in Idaho — considered one of the
three most beautiful lakes in the world.
In addition to beauty, it rates right at
the top of the list as a fisherman's para-
dise!"
The whole town of Coeur d'Alene took
part in making it a week always to be
remembered. As a gag, merchants and
various clubs had set up an outdoor
"Honeymoon Suite," furnished with a
decrepit cast-iron stove, a broken-down
bed, and an ancient dresser — in hilari-
ous contrast to the costly and shining
gifts given them at the broadcast. (The
town made up for it later, though, by
ensconcing Ed and Charlene in the
bridal suite of the beautiful Desert
Hotel, and by loading them down with
countless gifts — new, this time — of sil-
ver, china, and household furnishings.)
There was even a "special Honeymoon
Plane at their disposal for trips to near-
by points of interest; and a trim craft
with lofty sails for the all-day fishing
trips, and for leisurely evenings of sail-
ing through the moonlight.
"We've found out that life can really
be a magic thing," Charlene said hap-
pily. "And that all your dreams can
really come true — even if they start out
with only half a sandwich, half an or-
ange, half a banana, and a trout named
Pappy!"
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Lazy Day Dinners
(Continued from page 61)
Condensed Milk Mayonnaise
V4 cup vinegar or
lemon juice
V* cup salad oil
% cup sweetened
condensed milk
1 egg yolk
V2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon dry mustard
dash of cayenne
pepper
Measure ingredients into a pint jar
in order listed, cover tightly and shake
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frigerator. Will thicken on standing.
Serve with fruit salads. Makes 1%
cups dressing.
Lemon Honey Dressing
1 egg, beaten
Vi cup lemon juice
V2 cup honey
3 tablespoons milk
1 cup cottage cheese
dash of salt
dash of mace
Combine egg, lemon juice and honey
in top of double boiler. Cook over hot
water until mixture thickens, stirring
constantly. Cool. Stir milk into cottage
cheese, beat until smooth. Add salt
and mace and blend with cooked mix-
ture. Makes 1% cups.
Jellied Ginger Pear Salad
1 package lemon-flavored gelatin
1 cup water
1 cup gingerale
V2 cup seedless, halved grapes
1 cup diced fresh pears
Vb cup chopped nuts
2 tablespoons chopped crystallized ginger
lettuce and mayonnaise
Combine the gelatin and water. Place
over low heat and bring to boiling, stir
until dissolved. Add gingerale and
chill. When slightly thickened fold in
fruit, nuts and half the ginger. Turn
into individual custard cups or molds;
chill until firm. Unmold on crisp let-
tuce, garnish with mayonnaise and
remaining ginger. Makes 6 servings.
Popovers
1 cup sifted all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar
3 eggs
1 cup milk or V2 cup evaporated milk plus
V2 cup water
1 tablespoon melted shortening
Before starting to mix the popovers,
heat the oven to very hot (450° F.).
Then grease heat-proof glass custard
cups or muffin pans and place them in
the oven to heat. Sift flour, salt and
sugar together. Beat eggs until frothy.
Add flour mixture and half of the milk,
and beat with a rotary beater until
ingredients are combined. Add re-
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% full and bake in a very hot oven
(450° F.) 20 minutes. Then reduce
heat to moderate (350° F.) and con-
tinue baking 15 to 20 minutes. Makes
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Orange and Black Olive Salad
4 navel oranges, peeled and sliced
2 onions, thinly sliced; lettuce
V2 cup ripe olives, sliced
Arrange oranges and onions on let-
tuce. Sprinkle with olives; serve with
French dressing. Makes 6 servings.
Wife of the Week
(Continued from page 31)
Adams, the food editor, with some ques-
tions about my "Paprikash" recipe; Vir-
ginia Stewart, an associate editor, with
questions about our personal back-
ground; and Georgette Koehler who
wanted to know if we preferred plane
or train.
We took a big four-motored plane
early Tuesday morning that brought us
into LaGuardia Field in less than two
hours.
Mrs. Adams was waiting for us, and
she was so gay and such fun that we felt
that we had arrived at a party. After
we were settled and brushed up, she
took us over to The Drake to meet Miss
Stewart for lunch and to talk about the
script that was to be written that after-
noon while we were having fun going
sightseeing and shopping in New York.
ONE of the first things Miss Stewart
said was, "Aren't you proud of the
letter your husband wrote about you?"
and I had to admit that, for the first
time in his life he was being really
mean to me, and that I had not seen it
yet.
Tickets for that evening had been pro-
vided for the hit musical, "Annie Get
Your Gun." Because the seats had been
gotten at the last moment, I did not
think they could possibly be very good,
so I took along my opera glasses. But
someone had a lot of pull. They were
in the fifth row! But Frank used the
opera glasses, anyway, on a pretty
brunette in the chorus.
"Don't complain," he said. "I said in
my letter that you were never jealous."
"What else did you say?" I whispered,
but he just laughed and kept on looking
at the brunette.
A table had been reserved in The
Warwick's Raleigh Room for the supper
show, so we danced and felt very gay.
The next morning at nine we went
just a few blocks to Radio City for re-
hearsals and to meet Betty Crocker. She
is a delightful person, just as pretty and
friendly as her voice on the air, and the
minute you meet her you feel that you
have known her always.
' Win Elliot, the master of ceremonies,
is tall, thin and gives you the impression
that he is having a lot of fun all of the
time.
We ran through the program once
with Ted Corday, the director, and he
was so easy and amusing that we were
not nervous at all when time came to go
on the air, both because we felt that we
knew everybody and because we knew
exactly what was going to be asked us.
There is no curtain, but otherwise the
studio looks like a luxurious little thea-
ter seating about fifty people. On the
stage there's a sink, an electric stove, a
table and chairs in front of a yellow tile
background. Frank's special noodle pan
was in place over the pot of boiling
water.
This pan is a gadget that Frank had
made especially for us. How good the
dish tastes has nothing to do with the
shape of the noodles — but this gadget
makes them come out in a shape we like.
It is an ordinary light-weight eight-inch
'frying pan with about twenty holes,
each half an inch in diameter, bored in
the bottom. One firm swipe of a spoon
forces the dough in little almond shapes
through the holes and into the boiling
water below.
All of this kept us busy so I had no
time to get nervous and before I knew it
we were on the air and at last I was hear-
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*some pronounce it "suoahv" . . . others say
"stoayv" . . . either way it means beautiful hair.
AT YOUR BEAUTY SHOP, DRUG STOKE, l»il'VltTMK\T STORE
79
DREADED MS i
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PERIODIC PAIN 1
CRAMPS-HEADACHE -"BLUES"
"What a DIFFERENCE
Midol /^\
makes"
80
ing the famous letter as Frank read it,
himself.
"Dear Betty Crocker: I wrote so
many letters while I was in service
that I thought I would never will-
ingly write another letter again, but
after hearing your program I felt I
had to write to you about my wife
who has been the staff of my life
and who has kept me going many
times when the way seemed too
rough to go on. We eloped eighteen
years ago, shortly after finishing
college, and announced this world-
shattering event to our families and
friends fourteen months later. That
was during the depression, but we
were young and had no idea of the
value of a dollar so we spent prac-
tically every cent we had on a West
Indies cruise. What a rude awaken-
ing I had when we settled in our
own flat and I discovered that I
could not stretch my bank teller's
salary to cover our expenses!"
The studio faded out as I listened, and
my memory drifted back to the first
time I met my husband and both of us
fell in love at first sight. It was in a
corridor at the University of Buffalo,
my current best beau introduced us!
We had no idea of marrying until we
had finished college, but pretty soon
Frank began to talk about getting a job.
Both families approved the match but
were firm against a quick marriage.
They thought we were entirely too
young and should wait until Frank was
graduated and established. But we were
so much in love that we thought a secret
marriage would be romantic.
"Our parents were right," Frank
was reading into the microphone.
"I couldn't support a wife but I
wouldn't admit it to them."
Thinking back, I am so glad that he
wouldn't! It was a great temptation to
accept help, because we needed so many
things. But we didn't. If you are ever
going to make a success of your busi-
ness— and your homemaking is your
business — your very first obligation is
to get along on what your husband
makes. Of course our families did lov-
ing things for us, like giving us some
furniture and little treats, but we posi-
tively refused any real assistance. This
gave us a glorious feeling, but the fact
remained that between my inexperi-
ence and Frank's generosity, we were
always running out of money.
"I explained the situation to my
bride," Frank was reading, "and I
decided to let her take over and
see what she could do. She did
well, and got us through that and
an even worse period when the
bank where I was employed went
on a part-time basis and I brought
home $15 a week. You will admit
this was a feat, especially for an
only child whose parents were only
too happy to give her anything she
wanted. In fact she did so well she
has been the financial manager ever
since."
"Poor Frank," I thought. "How sweet
of him to be grateful after what I did to
him!" I think that when a woman is
made responsible for the family money
she is apt to be more careful than a man
to start with, but I squeezed every nickel
so hard that I bet those Indians never
recovered. We went on an iron-clad
budget. Frank, who had always been
used to money, was cut down to $2.50 a
week.
"She enjoyed keeping house and
cooking (though frankly I had to
teach her practically everything)
until now she has built up a reputa-
tion as a home maker. She devotes
herself entirely to being a home
maker and can't understand why it
bores so many women, because to
her way of thinking it combines
more activities than any other job."
That's true. I can't think of anything
that is more enjoyable than making a
comfortable pleasant home for the one
man who is the most important person in
the world to you. At the start I spent all
day shining up my house. Frank was
certainly right in saying that I had
a lot to learn. It wasn't until I began to
manage the money that it occurred to
me to do any of the washing myself, for
instance.
"I think I better get a washing ma-
chine," I said to Frank's mother.
So she gave me twenty dollars as a
present to start my laundry fund, and I
started to save. We never have bought
anything on time, and I think it is an
excellent rule.
I was terribly glad that we were not
involved in time payments when that
major blow fell, and Frank was put on
half-time with a salary of $15 a week.
I thought he was unbalanced by the
shock when he told me and then added,
"Let's take a vacation in Florida. If
I'm going to worry, I'd rather worry in
comfort in the sun."
He wasn't kidding, either. We took
the meager savings we had been ac-
cumulating for a vacation, drove down
with some friends of the family and did
our worrying in Miami! As a matter of
fact, Frank had been working hard and
could use the break then, instead of at
normal vacation time.
Things picked up slowly. Frank went
back to work at the bank, eventually at
full salary. It was still small but we
saved a little each week, not for any
special purpose but just as a matter of
policy, and I was very glad that we had
later. We might never have attempted
building a house if we had not had
enough saved to buy a lot. When my
father became ill and we wanted him
with us we were worried because our
flat was small. We didn't know the an-
swer until one evening a friend said,
"Why don't you build? I'll give you a
mortgage."
It was a brand new idea. We got out
paper and pencils as if it were a game,
but with the drawing of the first line we
were off in full cry on a wonderful new
enterprise.
"The spoiled little girl I married
became a fine woman who took care
of both of her parents during their
last lingering illness, though at the
time she was far from well herself.
She also nursed her grandmother
until she passed on, too. Then I was
very nervous and had a hard time
finding a job as good as the one I
had left to go into service, so for a
whole year I did nothing. Many
women would have complained bit-
terly over this seemingly wasted
time but my wife said nothing and
just let me alone until I got on my
feet by myself. Any veteran who
has gone through such a miserable
period of adjustment will appre-
ciate what I mean."
I felt like crying when I heard
Frank tell the whole country about this
period of our lives because, while it was
a difficult time for me, it was a dread-
fully hard one for him in more ways
than one. When he went into uniform,
he was a very well-established and
prominent member of our community.
He had been the president of the Lacka-
wanna Food Merchants Association for
nine years, was former president of the
Chamber of Commerce and was then
serving as treasurer. He held the sales
promotion managership of the largest
independent bakery in Lackawanna. We
had two cars, two saddle horses and our
own home, so it was hard for him to ad-
just to the orders and general kicking
around that a younger private may not
mind, but that an older man finds hard
to take. Then he went through the land-
ing at Oran, spent months in Africa all
through those tough campaigns. He
weighed 215 when he went in, and 167
when he came out.
Frank was very nervous during the
first months at home. He didn't want to
go anywhere or see anybody. He just
wanted to sit around the house — so I sat
with him, talked when he wanted to
talk, kept still when he wanted to be
silent.
To have him thank me in his letter
and over the air for doing what any
loving wife would do made a lump come
into my throat. I thought I would never
be able to say what was expected of me,
but Betty Crocker caught my eye, gave
me a sort of a gay little smile, and I was
all right again.
"Now I am in business and my
wife continues to give me encour-
agement and support. She gets up
at 5:30 to give me a good breakfast
and has lunch and dinner ready for
me whenever I have a chance to get
home to eat. I show up anywhere
between 6 and 8 o'clock and some-
how or other she always has a de-
licious hot meal ready for me. By
the time she finishes the dishes it is
generally too late to go out, but she
always finds something to occupy
her time and never reproaches me."
"What would I reproach you for?" I
thought. Frank is putting in twelve
hours a day hard work for me as much
as for himself. He had decided to go
into business for himself, and when the
opportunity to buy the Gerstung Dairy
came along, and he showed his old
eagerness and enthusiasm, I knew that
he had done the right thing to put the
effects of his war years completely in
his past.
"If only I could make you see what
a comfortable, liveable home my
wife has made for the two of us who
could so easily become dull and
stuffy! You know, Betty Crocker,
I think it is harder to make a real
home for two than for a family. My
wife has succeeded in this and it
isn't just my opinion. Many of our
friends comment on the peaceful,
cosy atmosphere of our home. Be-
lieve me, after twelve hours of work
and worry it is my haven of peace.
Don't get the idea that my wife is
stuffy because she spends so much
time making me comfortable. She is
a red-head and you know you can
always depend on a red-head to
make life interesting. I am sure she
deserves to be made one of your
Homemakers of the Week, and I'll
be waiting to hear an announcement
over WKBW any day. Very truly
yours,
Frank S. Pillion"
T
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Now you know what a prize-winning
letter sounds like. Win Elliot pinned a
beautiful orchid on my shoulder, but I
felt that Frank had laid down a carpet
of orchids from coast to coast for me to
walk on, first by feeling the way he did
and second by saying it so beautifully.
The whole thing made me feel like a
bride. Particularly our presents — a
pressure cooker and an iron, a set of
hollow ground carving knives in a red-
wood case, a blanket wardrobe and a
very sizable shipment of the products of
Betty Crocker's sponsor.
Thursday morning we went back to
see the Magazine of the Air again, and
by this time Frank was a veteran radio
performer and covered himself with
glory in the Homemaker's Quiz part of
the program. The show is run like a
magazine: features on home care,
beauty, food, interviews with famous
people . . . something different every
day. Thursday is the day when the
guest is like a true story, and Allen
Funt, the man who is known for his
adventures with a Candid Microphone,
was there to tell how he worked.
We said goodbye with the feeling that
we had had the most novel holiday, got
back on the plane and were home Thurs-
day night.
Home always has looked wonderful to
me, but it seemed doubly so because I
was seeing it as my husband had de-
scribed it to millions of people who were
listening. I felt proud of it, and proud
of what we had done together in build-
ing it, but most of all I felt proud of him.
Mrs. Pillion's Recipe for Noodles
(serves two)
2 cups of Gold Medal flour
one half teaspoon of salt
one egg
one cup of water
Beat the egg in the water and add to the
salt and flour. Stir until smooth. Then
cut small pieces of the dough into rap-
idly boiling salted water. Let them cook
until they rise to the top. Drain, rinse,
drain again and then add them to the
chicken prepared as follows:
Mrs. Pillion's Chicken Paprikash
Have the butcher cut up a four- to
six-pound roasting chicken in serving
pieces. It is essential to have a kettle
with a tight cover so that no steam can
escape. We use a Dutch oven. In the
kettle brown lightly two medium sliced
onions in about two tablespoons of fat.
Then brown the chicken in the same fat,
adding a tablespoon of salt and a quarter
of a teaspoon of black pepper, a teaspoon
of paprika, one big bay leaf and a couple
of shakes of cayenne "pepper.
When the chicken is browned, add a
cup of water, cover, turn down the heat
and cook for about an hour until the
chicken is tender.
Then add one half pint of sour cream
and more salt, pepper and paprika, ac-
cording to taste. We like it very highly
salted because the noodles are bland and
can stand a highly seasoned gravy.
Add the noodles and let them mari-
nate with chicken and gravy for about
15 minutes.
This amount of chicken will serve
many more than two, so expand the
noodle recipe according to the number
of guests. I allow one cup of flour for
each person because everyone loves the
noodles.
With this, all we ever serve is a green
salad. We have served extra vegetables
on occasion, but no one seems to want
them.
Tex- Jinx Productions
(Continued from page 49)
to it. That was the real plan behind
Tex-Jinx Productions."
What about color television, I wanted
to know? How long before that would
be here, and were they interested?
"I can't say how long before color
television will be here — I doubt that
anyone would want to give you even an
approximate time, but we are definitely
interested in color — in fact this room
was planned for a color television show
to originate here." He waved a hand
in the general direction of the luscious
greens, yellows, and prints of the room.
"Yes," Jinx put in. "Our presenta-
tions start out in black and white and
toward the end of the portfolio, they go
into color." (In case you don't know,
a presentation is the very elaborate out-
line of a proposed radio or television
program that is "presented" for the
consideration of an agency or network.)
Tex believes that there won't be
much daylight tele for a while — except
baseball and special events, of course-
but he does think that very soon the
8:00 to 9:00 A.M. hour will become
important on television — catching just
about everyone at breakfast somewhere
within the hour.
He is unconditionally against televis-
ing regularly scheduled radio shows
per se. Thinks the classic remark that
"television cannot be radio with a peep-
hole" covers that situation. There
simply isn't enough visual interest in
people, no matter how talented, stand-
ing before microphones reading scripts.
I was personally very interested to
know what he thought about Holly-
wood. So far the film capital has been
extremely uncooperative as far as video
is concerned. There is an absolute
"Verboten" sign on the tele rights to
any good Hollywood picture.
"I think you'll find a relaxation of
restrictions very shortly," Tex said,
"and even better than that, actual co-
operation. I've been talking with Mr.
Paul Reyburn, of Paramount Pictures,
and he stands for full cooperation with
video."
We all had some iced coffee at this
point, and the McCrarys started in-
terviewing me How did I like being a
television editor? What all did it en-
tail? How was my husband?, etc., etc.
As we talked I realized that here was
a manifestation of one of the nicest
things about Jinx Falkenburg and Tex
McCrary — no matter how busy or im-
portant they get, they always seem to
be interested in you; and that surely is
the secret of a stimulating and happy
way of life!
cJLi&ten when
KATE
SMITH
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83
Love-quiz
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WHAT SINGLE MISTAKE THREATENS
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{Continued jrom page 50)
Incidentally, if Vallee's magic touch
applies to TV as it did to radio, the
aforementioned Miss Raine has a bright
future. Rudy is credited with giving
the initial break to many of today's top
performers, such as Edgar Bergen, Bob
Burns, Joan Davis, Alice Faye, Frances
Langford, Larry Adler, and many more.
There is reason, therefore, to suppose
that he will discover future television
greats. Rudy has never been reluctant
to share the spotlight with new and
promising talent. He still remembers
his own start, and how much a little
help meant.
Rudy began his trek up show business
road by giving out with the taps on a
drum in his high school band. With the
aid of a saxophone he paid for his col-
lege education. During the summer
following his graduation from Yale, he
toured New England with a small dance
band. That fall he counted his money
and decided the time had come for him
to try his luck in New York. His first
job there was a one-night engagement
with Vincent Lopez at a benefit for
the Hebrew Orphan Asylum on De-
cember 4, 1927. Several widely
spaced one-night jobs followed with
Lopez and with the late Ben Bernie's
band.
Deciding that it would be just as easy
to be an unemployed band leader as it
was to be an unemployed saxophonist,
Vallee organized his own group. Don
Dickerman, a well-known night club
impresario, booked the new orchestra
into the Heigh-Ho Club and the rest is
history. From 1928 until he enlisted in
the U. S. Coast Guard in World War II,
Rudy was a top radio personality and
had also established himself as a fine
comedian in motion pictures. His most
recent chore is the wonderful character-
zation in "I Remember Mama."
Everyone who is interested in tele-
vision is cheered by the fact that Rudy
is bringing his showmanship and ex-
perience to the new field. Vallee-
Video, Inc. (which is what Rudy calls
his new company) is as hopeful an in-
fant as the television industry itself.
He says, "We of Vallee-Video are doing
it for the fun, for the thrill and the
challenge that the making of films for
television presents to us. We've em-
barked upon this project of preparing
and making as many of these Video-
films as possible for the voracious de-
mand that is sure to come."
/4Ccut *&add
as
Vast'ZtoCicUiy
mr^:
of
MBS's BOX 13 is more than
a match for a criminal (as
usual) in OCTOBER RADIO
MIRROR'S exciting picture
story
Hoagy Carmichael
(Continued from page 59)
songs too, and she and Hoagy proceeded
to do one or two more together.
When they met again in New York at
Hoagy's midtown apartment Helen's
kid sister, Ruth, was along.
"I didn't pay much attention," Hoagy
confesses.
And Ruth — Mrs. Carmichael since
1936 — adds that he was "the rudest man
I ever met. But I knew right away
I wanted to marry him."
"I was a smart aleck," Hoagy teases
her, "but adorable."
Their romance was one of those on-
again, off-again things which drive the
gossip columnists crazy. At one point,
Ruthie, after one "last" blow-up, took
a boat to England, through with Hoagy
for good.
As soon as she was gone, Hoagy says,
he knew he shouldn't have let her out
of his sight. He went half-way to meet
her homecoming ship — although he
swears he had always hankered for a
vacation in Barbados — and when they
heard Winchell announce their "en-
gagement" a few days later over the
ship's radio, Hoagy gallantly remarked:
"Well, now I'm really stuck."
But he didn't mean it.
THE Menardi-Carmichael wedding
was an occasion which the hepsters in
New York still recall with nostalgia.
The ceremony at five in the afternoon
drew more musicians into the Fifth
Avenue Presbyterian church than had
ever been at church in their lives, and
the reception later — with the hottest
band in New York, Bunny Berrigan,
Eddie Condon, all of the "boys" — drew
even more.
The bride almost didn't make the re-
ception. The horse-drawn carriage
which the best man had hired senti-
mentally to bring the wedding couple
from the church to the party, stopped
at the curbing in front of Hoagy's
apartment hotel and the bridegroom
hopped out. He held up a hand to help
down his bride — but the horse, car-
riage, and bride were half a block
away, Ruthie screaming back for some-
body to stop them. Ruth swears — but
not too seriously — that the horse
started to run away before Hoagy
jumped out.
It was quite a party. George Gersh-
win played — as a preview — the entire
score for a new show he had just writ-
ten, "Porgy and Bess." After which
Hoagy's father, having recovered from
his suspicions of the music world,
moved in and said, "Now George, I
want you to hear some real piano play-
ing." He meant by his lawyer-son.
The Carmichaels came to Hollywood
wrapped in the aura of that now-
famous party. Probably that accounts
for the fact that whatever they do now
takes on the aspects of a jam session.
All of his success and his responsi-
bilities— which now include two sons —
have failed to change the basically ir-
repressible little-boy core of Hoagy.
Life at the Carmichaels' house in the
swankiest section of Beverly Hills
carries over a good many of the easy-
going aspects of life in the Book Nook
back in good old Indiana.
The intercommunication phone rings
in the "big house," and Ada Dockery,
the Carmichaels' cheerful English
housekeeper, crosses the room to an-
swer it. The voice of Hoagy Bix (for
the one and only Bix Beiderbecke,
Hoagy's early friend and mentor), who
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is nine and the older of the Carmich-
aels' two sons, roars distinctly into the
room.
"Is Sawdust home yet?"
"No reverence," drawls Sawdust
himself, ambling to the telephone.
"What's up, man?" he says into the
receiver.
The boys can spare their father some
time, it turns out, if he can shake the
visitors and come on down to their
house. They thought maybe a little
tether ball . . .
"Can't Skeeter take it?"
Skeeter is Seaton Grant, the ex-pro
baseball player and current physical
education major at U.C.L.A. whom the
Carmichaels have engaged to live with
the small fry and rub off the top layer
of their energy. Unrubbed, they're too
much for Hoagy. Under Skeeter's
tutelage they've become such expert
swimmers, tennis players, tether ball
players and all-round muscle men that
Hoagy is thinking of hiring a physical
trainer of his own to get even.
"I'll be down," Hoagy promises.
"Down" is across the garden, past the
swimming pool to the little bungalow
which originally was the guest house
at the lavish hilltop estate which the
Carmichaels bought six years ago. Now
a small boys' idea of heaven, the cot-
tage houses Hoagy Bix, Randy Bob (for
Randolph Scott and Bob Montgomery) ,
who is seven, Skeeter and assorted
athletic equipment.
WHEN the boys are feeling particu-
larly affable — or when, like today,
Skeeter is otherwise engaged — Hoagy
is invited down for a work-out.
Invitations to the grown-ups to visit
Small Fry house are much harder come
by than bids in the other direction.
Hoagy Bix and Randy mingle at their
convenience with the parade of visitors
who come and go from the big house —
no rules in this family about childrens'
visiting hours — but when their parents
are invited to the cottage it is usually
a special occasion.
"On my birthday," their father re-
ports gratefully, "they let me take
them to the circus."
The life-with-father theme is played
out in reverse at the Carmichaels, al-
though at the big house itself it must
be said that signs are more frequent
that the master is a fellow of some
consequence.
In Hoagy's study and workroom, his
desk is waiting for him, a model of
orderliness — mail here, papers here,
checks here. Perhaps next week he
will get around to looking them over.
This top letter — what's this? — oh, just
an offer.
"Anybody ever hear of the Golden
night club in Cleveland?"
Better ask his agent, Hoagy decides,
and forgets it.
He gravitates to the work piano. It's
a studio upright, unimpressive piece of
machinery to have turned out so many
hits. "I have a concert grand in the
living room," Hoagy explains, "but
that's for fun."
He runs through the first bars of the
song he's working on now:
"I'm from Dallas, Texas"
(It's sung with emphasis on the
Southern accent)
"But you cayn't tell
Cause I don't talk that way-ee"
At this point Hoagy breaks himself
up laughing.
This one probably won't land in the
leather bound volume entitled in gold
leaf "Non-Commercial." This book
which Ruth Carmichael had made up
for Hoagy is a collection of his tunes
which did not make the Hit Parade.
"Some of my favorites, too," Hoagy
says of them, ruefully.
The phone rings — the outside phone
this time, and Hoagy grabs for it.
Someone wants him to go on the radio,
not his regular Saturday night CBS
session this time, but an ad lib go on
Leave It to the Girls.
Hoagy shies away frantically. "I'm
not bright enough for that sort of
thing," he says, meaning it, "not funny
enough. I don't think fast enough on
my feet." He listens for a minute, but
he isn't moved. "No, look," he says,
at last. "I can't do it. I have an irri-
tating voice . . ."
Everyone in the room, aware that
Hoagy's "irritating" voice has made
him a fortune, gets a big laugh at this.
But he couldn't be more serious.
"You have to have something special
— a sense of humor or something," he
says after hanging up, "to get away
with that."
At this point, he thinks it's time for
"Mrs. C." to show us around the house.
Ruthie Carmichael has never hung
out a shingle as an interior decorator,
but she could. She really has worked
something of a miracle with "Stardust
House."
Built in a sprawling U around a
beautiful swimming pool, looking out
across a vista of terraced gardens, the
house could very easily have been for-
midable. But with a sagacious blend-
ing of modern comfort (in the uphol-
stered pieces) and style (in the fine
English antiques) and with a bold hand
with colored fabrics, Mrs. Carmichael
has achieved an effect which is casual
and informal.
The large blue and rose living room
is so inviting that you have to look
twice to realize that it is also ap-
propriately (for the Indiana boy who
made good) expensive. The series of
Dresden figurines of the composers
which are arranged along the mantel-
piece and the impressive collection of
white ironstone are — to use a Holly-
wood colloquialism — "thrown away."
You are much more apt to notice the
McClelland Barclay portrait in oils of
Ruth's handsome sister, Helen, or the
kids' new television outfit set up, for
want of a better place, on a rare old
English table.
HOMEY touches supplied by Hoagy's
mother, Mrs. Lyda Carmichael, are
here, as everywhere in the house, im-
portantly in evidence. The old Indiana
rocker, with its needlepoint cushion,
the needlepoint cover on Hoagy's piano
chair — brown on beige showing the
opening bars of "Stardust" — are Grand-
ma's contributions. The elder Mrs.
Carmichael embroidered the entire
score of "Stardust" on Hoagy's bed-
spread, a resplendent touch in an other-
wise severely tailored room. Ruthie's
bedroom, contrarily, is frilly and fem-
inine with a huge white-canopied four-
poster, eyelet cotton drawn back with
black velvet at the windows, and a col-
lection of old family photographs in
silver frames on the wall.
Except for- the children, there are no
contemporary family photos about. In
the living room McClelland Barclay's
— he's an old friend — line drawings of
Hoagy and Ruth are prominently dis-
played, along with some good modern
watercolors. One, a snow scene, is an
original by Johnny Mercer. Another, a
seascape, characteristically unsigned, is
the work of the Hoagy Carmichael, a
Sunday painter himself of enthusiasm
and some talent.
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"Of course I'm a better barber," he
says, "or was, before Ruth sold my
barber chair."
There just wasn't room for it, Mrs.
Carmichael insists. Besides, Hoagy
took to cutting hair at parties instead
of using the piano bench. And it wasn't
half as much fun.
"It was for me," Hoagy laments.
Hoagy just stumbled into his talent
for barbering — like his talent for paint-
ing, or singing or composing.
He points out that he studied law at
the University of Indiana, under Paul
McNutt, adding dryly, "that's probably
where I learned to be an actor."
This is not quite true. Hoagy did
some acting at Indiana; played the part
of a monkey, in false nose and long
underwear complete with tail, in the
senior class play. But the real chance
came when his friend, Slim Hawks,
came by the house one day and found
him in faded blue jeans and several
layers of dirt pruning the roses.
"What a character," she muttered to
herself, making a mental note to tell
her husband, Director Howard Hawks,
that she had found a movie natural.
Hoagy's hit part in "To Have and Have
Not" resulted, and a whole new phase
of his career.
Hoagy loves puttering in his garden,
and not, he insists, just because he was
"discovered" there. He worries about
the woolly aphis along with the rest of
Beverly Hills garden lovers and claims
that despite its blight his roses are the
biggest and the best in the neighbor-
hood. The wisteria vine trained over
a latticework arch — monument to
Hoagy's nostalgia for springtime in In-
diana— is his real pride, and he is
furious that it has bloomed and faded
for three seasons now without his hav-
ing recorded its lavender and green
wonder on color film. Next year, he
swears, he will go on strike at wisteria
season.
Hoagy's gardening proceeds without
handicap now that Rags is no longer
around. Rags, a "dirty white" dog,
half poodle and half Yorkshire terrier,
used to tear up planting beds as fast as
Hoagy could plant them.
She disappeared one day. The fam-
ily didn't worry for forty-eight hours —
Rags had customarily taken an occa-
sional two-day sabbatical — but when
three days went by and she didn't show
up, the boys and Hoagy were frantic.
Hoagy put an ad in the Beverly Hills
paper: "Dog, sort of white; brown tail
and ears; tick scar under left eye."
But no luck. No Rags. Hoagy finds it
satisfying to think that whoever kid-
napped the puppy is having a terrible
time keeping his pansies planted.
Hoagy is so fond of his garden that
Ruth surprised him on his last birthday
by giving him a party there.
"Really went Hollywood," Hoagy re-
calls, still pleased at the whole idea.
"Big tent, orchestra, catering by Ro-
manoff's— the works."
The Carmichaels seldom entertain so
lavishly. They say they don't enter-
tain at all, but actually they never stop
entertaining. Even Hoagy's working
hours are entertainment — he loves his
work, and so do the lucky auditors.
There are always people around —
sitting at umbrella-shaded tables
around the pool, hiding from the sun
in the plant-filled lanai, or perched on
the handsome ebony-inlaid English
bank tellers' chairs at the brown and
white gingham-lined bar.
. "It's a party," Hoagy says, sticking
his head out of his workroom.
It's always a party, if Hoagy is at
home — even he can't be sure when the
work ends and the fun begins. Supper
for six — or even ten or twelve — is no
trouble for Ada, and the big table in
the dining room is ready without so
much as an extra leaf.
Their friends — the inner circle, at
least — are the same year after year.
The Hawkses, the Bob Montgomerys,
the Lee Bowmans, the Alexander Halls,
the Victor Flemings. They know they
don't have to telephone — the latch is
always out.
The guest room nearly always is oc-
cupied too, by Hoagy's mother, or one
of his sisters, or Ruth's sister on one of
her frequent treks from her home- in
Maine. "Always a bulge in the house,
seems like," Hoagy says.
Wherever "Sawdust" is at home,
people hang around. And why not?
Isn't it a party?
It's a party when Hoagy's on the air.
William Paley, big boss at CBS, has
decided that it should be a thirty min-
ute instead of a fifteen minute party,
and Hoagy has cut audition records of
that length for all consideration.
It's a party on any movie set where
Hoagy works. Ethel Barrymore her-
self, who "adored" working with Hoagy
in "Night Song," is only one of the
authorities for that. And as for his
real love — the song-writing business
— the party is apt to go on for a long,
long time.
Hoagy has a hatful of new tunes —
"Sad Cowboy" probably will hit first.
Hoagy is more than versatile, it is
apparent after a good long look. He is
inexhaustible.
"*?( ytve& me a &ette% and fataacten (006 at Ctfc"
—These are the words of just one listener
to "My True Story" radio program, but
they speak for many thousands of women.
For here are many kinds of real people! A
complete story every day Monday through
Friday prepared in co-operation with the
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'**e«* "MY TRUE STORY
AMERICAN BROADCASTING STATIONS
Remembering
Tom Breneman
(Continued from page 29)
on my own Take It or Leave It. I had
just heard from Ralph Edwards of
Truth or Consequences that he would
take over for me — when the telephone
rang. It was Tom.
"Say, Garry," he said. "I hear you
need somebody to pinchhit on your
program. If I can help, I don't need to
go on this trip right away. Billie and
I could leave later just as well."
That was Tom. The ultimate sad
event a few weeks later proved how
desperately he did need that rest, but
there he was, offering to postpone his
vacation to "help out" somebody else.
When I recovered, I went to my home
town, Baltimore, to visit my parents. It
was there that I heard the shocking
news of Tom's sudden passing. With
millions of others, I said "No! It can't
be!" when I heard the message on the
air. Later, trying to tell my folks about
Tom, I paid him what is probably one
performer's most sincere tribute to an-
other: "Gee, I'd hate to be the guy who
has to try to fill his shoes!"
IRONICALLY, three days later .in New
York I received a call from the spon-
sors of Breakfast in Hollywood. They
asked me to step into Tom's program.
You can imagine my feelings. I tried
to put them into words in a pre-broad-
cast talk just before facing the studio
audience that first time.
What I said then still goes: "I know
that I cannot fill the shoes of Tom
Breneman for he was a man of unique
mold. ... I cannot promise you that I
will be good at the job. Nobody knows
that, least of all myself. But I can
promise you that I will try to bring to
the job the things that Tom treasured
most highly — friendliness and love of
his fellow man. . . . The wheel of life
continues to revolve. There is no way
of turning it back The crowd is
waiting in the next studio. So let's go
in there together and hope that this is
the beginning of a good friendship."
And I think that, from that moment
on, I began really to know Tom Brene-
man. For some of the kindliness that
he had dispensed through his work
while he lived — dispensed to you — be-
gan to fall around me like a warm
bright light, reflected back from you.
Your letters, expressing your grief and
yet wishing me well, showed that you
shared Tom's spirit of friendship.
Through you and your letters, then,
I began really to know Tom. And in
another wonderful way I came to know
him. This was through working with
the fine people who had worked with
him, through hearing their tales of
Tom as they saw him. Tales of the
man, the human being.
In these tales, not at all strangely, the
accent is usually on laughter — as it was
with Tom. Laughter was one of his
great gifts. Once you heard it, could
you ever forget that laugh of his? That
deep-down, mellow, infectious and ir-
resistible geyser of mirth that fairly
shook the air?
You must have noticed the frequency
with which Tom turned that laughter
on himself. On the air, of course, that
could be regarded as merely good
showmanship. Every professional funny
man knows that to be on the receiving
end of a gag puts him in a good light,
while dishing it out can make him ap-
pear smart-aleck or worse. As a show-
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man, Tom doted on every one of those
famous "insulting" introductions by
John Nelson. You remember how they
went: ". . . to all you ladies who want
the latest dope, here he is — Tom Brene-
man!" . . . "In this day (of airplanes)
we forget in what kind of thing man
first flew through the air. It was in a
balloon. A big bag filled with hot air,
which reminds me that here's — Tom
Breneman!" Cracks like that, every
day. And the loudest, most appreci-
ative roar you heard was always Tom's.
He loved it.
But he was that way off the air, too,
when no showmanship was involved.
His favorite stories (as the gang retells
them) were always those in which Tom
himself was the butt of the gag, caught
without a comeback, stumped.
IN A SHOW like his— all ad lib, just
1 "gabbing with the gals," as he termed
it — anything could happen. Roaming
among the guests with his traveling
mike, asking folksy questions, spoofing
the ladies' zany hats, no matter what
he did, Tom was the old master of the
quick retort. But he always liked to
relate, not the many times he wowed
them with a fast one, but the rare oc-
casions he himself was left speechless.
The time, for instance, he asked a
young housewife how many children
she had. "One — and one on the way,"
was the answer, at which Tom beat a
quick retreat to another table. She
called after him, in a voice that car-
ried over the nation, "Don't be afraid —
it's not catching!"
And the time, quizzing a sweet old
lady, he asked a certain question and
then quickly corrected himself: "Oh, I
shouldn't have asked that — I make it a
point never to get personal on this pro-
gram." She fairly bowled him over (he
admitted it later) when she snapped:
"I know differently. I listen to you
often and most of the time you're pretty
nosey!"
And there was another sweetheart,
all of eighty-seven, who missed out on
the "oldest guest" orchid by only a few
months. "Shucks, Tom," she said, "I
didn't mind not getting the orchid, but
I came here for your kiss. That's what
I'm sore about!"
Tom, in his most chivalrous manner,
planted his second kiss of the day on
her cheek.
"My," she sighed, but her eyes
twinkled mischievously. "Why didn't
I meet you when I was a girl? Betcha
we'd have had a lot o' fun!"
I like the story of the beginnings and
early struggles of Breakfast in Holly-
wood. Its beginnings, indirectly, can
be traced to Tom's constant interest in
brightening the surrounding atmo-
sphere— in making people happier. In
the program's birth struggles there was
Tom, with his associates, putting up a
good fight for a thing he believed in.
And Tom, throughout his life, was a
fighter.
The seed of Breakfast in Hollywood
was planted the day Tom and his old
friend Chet Mittendorf sat over coffee
at a little lunch counter. A radio was
giving with a sad, sad drama. The
waitress snapped it off, with an acid
comment about the morning's pro-
grams: "You'd think it was against the
law to laugh before noon! News,
records, or tragedy — morning, after
morning!"
Tom and Chet chuckled, and allowed
the truth of the charge.
"Must be plenty of people who feel
the same way," ventured Tom. "I bet
almost anybody could ad lib a show
more cheerful than most of these morn-
ing broadcasts."
Chet recalled this a few days later
when he sat in Sardi's restaurant on
Hollywood Boulevard, along with Ray-
mond R. Morgan, head of the radio-
advertising agency, and Dave Covey,
the restaurant's owner. It seems they
were discussing the sad state of busi-
ness. Sardi's wasn't doing well. Chet,
who was then selling radio time to
sponsors, had his troubles too. Ray
Morgan suggested cheerfully that they
should join worries.
"Just figure out a radio show that will
help the restaurant business," he said.
"That would solve both your problems."
Chet remembered that snapped-off
radio — and Tom Breneman's comment.
He told about it. Ray Morgan, lis-
tening, began to envision something.
Dave's restaurant could be their studio,
Chet could line up sponsors, Tom
Breneman could be M. C, ad libbing
over ham and eggs. Why not?
They found plenty of answers to that
question before Breakfast at Sardi's
finally hit the air, unsponsored, over
one local station, KFWB, on January 13,
1941. Breakfast in Hollywood, as it
was later called when Tom moved to
his own restaurant on Vine Street, did
not spring full-blown into hit status. It
wobbled along for weeks and months,
just another "crazy idea."
Women, skeptical of the notion of at-
tending a mere radio program at 7
A.M., had to be cajoled by free taxicab
rides, free breakiasts, guts oi Deputy
wares and flowers. As they became
converts, and then enthusiastic patrons,
sponsors still rejected the show with
discouraging regularity. "Nobody,"
remarked Tom wryly, "seems to like us
but the listeners!" And he kept on
plugging, hoping, working. It took nine
months for "Breakfast" to leave local
rating to be heard up and down the
Pacific Coast. Less than a year after
that, ABC was sending it coast to coast,
now with two major sponsors. Tom
with his "crazy idea" of a show, had
really arrived.
EVEN after that, there were diehards
who admitted the success but mar-
veled at it. What was funny, they de-
manded, about a guy trying on ladies'
hats — when the vast radio audience
couldn't see it even if it were funny?
The experts were stumped by that one,
but the fans continued to howl with
glee just the same. Maybe it was like it
was with that fellow Bergen who
wanted to air an act with a wooden
dummy named McCarthy — whom dial-
ers couldn't "see" either.
Well, you can't hear all the tales
about Tom without realizing that he
deserved everything he won: the fame,
the fortune, the devotion of millions of
human beings. Building up to these,
he had had thirty years of hard school-
ing in show business. And I'm sure
he must have spent his whole allotted
forty-seven years in the school of the
human heart.
That's why, along with laughter, his
program so often glowed with hushed
moments, tender and inspiring in their
revelation of the goodness, the hopes,
the courage of "ordinary, everyday"
people. Through Tom, and his "most
elderly guests" and his "Good, Good
Neighbors" and his Wishing Rings,
America knew many such moments
along with the fun.
Who could ever forget the little
crippled girl who wanted "just once to
walk like other kids?" Or the boot-
black who, from his own earnings, sent
weekly cartons of cigarettes to service-
men overseas during the war? Or the
women who, in their own communities,
set shining examples of helpful service?
Or the woman who wished that "all
the lonesome little puppies and all the
lonesome little boys" could be given to
each other?
Building the unique niche he ulti-
mately won, Tom had kicked around
vaudeville and radio for years. He be-
gan in radio back in the twenties, when
it was still a strident and disorganized
infant of the show world. It was be-
fore the era of vast networks, and a
sponsor on one station was an actor's
delight. Tom knew good times — as
singer, comedian, M. C, studio execu-
tive— and he knew bad. He survived
that near-fatal freak accident — the iron
curtain rod which fell and struck him
down at his desk — which nearly cost
him the permanent use of his normal
voice. There was one week, in the
period after a seeming miracle restored
his speech, that Tom for all his talents
could find only two roles — a "newsboy
calling in the distance" and "a wailing
banshee."
All the large troubles and the vary-
ing triumphs, shared by his devoted
wife and later by their children, went
into the making of his eventual great
success. (Mrs. Breneman and the chil-
dren plan to do, now that Tom is gone,
exactly what he would have most liked
them to do — continue their lives as
nearly as possible as if he were still
with them. Mrs. Breneman will still be
an Encino housewife; Gloria is to con-
tinue her studies in music, and Tom, Jr.,
will, of course, finish school.)
Many people, including at least one
famed psychiatrist, have tried to ex-
plain Tom's success. What did he "do"?
What "tricks" did he use? One of his
pals, after a nostalgic session with a
few of Tom's transcriptions, gave a£
good an answer as any: "Tom didn't 'do'
anything — and he did it beautifully.
He hadn't any 'tricks,' he hadn't any
script, and he hadn't any set pieces of
business. What did it was his person-
ality— the man himself. The way he
treated people, the sympathy and
warmth he felt — and showed."
I'll go along with that. Tom was a
great showman, but showmanship was
only a small part of it. It was show-
manship plus his ability to project him-
self over the air.
And what Tom had to project was
something rare indeed — Tom Breneman.
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"The Love We Found"
(Continued from page 47)
thoughts, off the air, as on, by inviting
me to go to the symphony with him.
Later, George was to explain to me
why, feeling as he swears he did about
me, he was so slow. He was, he said,
"very involved." He was still an officer
in the Army. He was still working for
the Army by day and, also, by night.
He was able to do the Rosemary show
only by courtesy of his commanding
officer who gave him a couple of hours
leave of absence each day. He was
trying to get back in the theater. He
was trying to find an apartment. "And,"
he concluded his defense of himself as
a laggard in love, "you were a very
popular girl — men calling for you at
the studio and all that. I was too in-
volved to get in there and cope. And,"
he added, "too scared."
GEORGE had been in love before. He'd
come out of it, with scars.
We went to the symphony jnd
George held my hand and it was nice.
Even nicer was the fact that George
revealed to me a side of himself I'd
had no opportunity to know in the
studio . . . his knowledge of music, for
one thing, which is good, is fine. His
appreciation, both warm and intellec-
tual, of all the Arts. That evening I
realized, for the first time, how much
we have in common. It disturbed me.
I had no desire to become involved
with anyone. I had been in love, too
(or that's what I called it) a long time
ago and it was misery. So I, too, was
afraid of love. Very afraid of getting
^narried.
So here we were, two people afraid
of love, falling in love — and if that
isn't being impaled on the horns of a
dilemma, what in the world of lovers
and their problems, is it?
I attempted to escape by telling my-
self flatly that what I felt for George
Keane was nothing more than the
friendly affection natural between two
young people who work together every
day, Monday through Friday. I told
myself, "We act well together — 'Simply
that and nothing more.' "
Nothing more?
Then why when, shortly after our
evening at the symphony, George went
to Fort Dix to get his discharge from
the Army and there was a chance he
might have to stay there several
weeks; might, as a consequence, lose
his job on the Rosemary show — why
did I feel so violently that he must not
lose the job? Why was I so embattled,
so up in arms at the mere mention of
another Bill?
I knew why.
Shortly after George got back from
Dix — this was in April of 1945 — what
he describes as "A great event in our
lives" befell us: George got a car. In
the car, taking long drives, going for
week-end visits with friends in the
country, this was how we really got to
know each other; got to know how
curiously one we are, in our interests,
in our reactions, our senses of humor;
in what we like and what we like to
do. . . . The sun, for instance, we both
love the sun, love the beach, the sea.
We found out, too, how extraordinary
sensitive we are to each other, so sensi-
tive that one never unknowingly hurts
or insults the other because of know-
ing, as we do, what would hurt, in-
sult. . . .
In the car we used often to drive
down for week-ends with Elaine Car-
rington, who writes our Rosemary
show (and how many others!) at her
lovely Bridgehampton, Long Island,
home. Elaine, realizing immediately,
how right we are together, how close
we were — closer, to her seeing eye,
than even we really tried, we suspect,
to push our relationship along. "Tried,"
my foot! After the very first week-end
we spent with her, she married us in
the script!
In real life, it took us a year longer
to get married. A year in love — there
was no longer any shadow of a doubt
about that — but for me, at least, a year
in fear, too.
Fear, that, as I look back on it now,
has about as much substance and real-
ity as the bogie-men that beset neu-
rotic children.
I had never "gone with" an actor. In
my home-town of Berwick, Pa., and
later in Akron, Ohio, I grew up with a
prejudice against marrying an actor.
I was afraid of marriage to anyone but
the prescribed "solid older business
man." Later, I was afraid of marriage,
period.
But solid older business men do not,
alas, share your interests — not if you
are me, they don't! They do not share
your sense of humor, your flights and
fevers and fervors whereas, George . . .
George is an actor, yes, George is an
artist, yes — but George, I reminded
myself, is very interested in politics,
as well as in plays and play-acting;
is interested in the production end of
the theater, in music, in travel and
books and people and life. George has
dimension — all this and the heaven of
the fun he is, too!
JUST as these reflections were build-
ing props for my courage and I was
close to capitulating, came a crisis in
our affairs: George got a job on the
stage — his part in the musical comedy
"Park Avenue" whereupon, except for
our morning broadcasts and our Sun-
days together, we practically didn't
meet.
This panicked me. What kind of a
marriage, I asked myself, newly fear-
ful, would this be? Which proved to
be another false fear because George
is still in the theater, playing the com-
edy lead in "Brigadoon" and, after
eight months, what a wonderful mar-
riage ours is!
During this year-of-fear George pro-
posed to me in, he insists, every ad-
vantageous and disadvantageous spot in,
and within driving distance of New
York.
According to his story: "I first pro-
posed to you in the studio at CBS, with
the lights burning brightly and an
engineer, smoking a big black cigar,
the smoke curling from his unlovely
lips, kibitzing. I kept on proposing to
you — in the movies, on Bridgehamp-
ton Beach, on top of a Fifth Avenue
bus, at the Museum of Modern Art, in
Grant's Tomb, in Elaine Carrington's
garden, also in Elaine's kitchen, in the
subway, in a thunder storm, in my
mother's presence, in your mother's
presence, while fixing a flat tire on a
country road, while you were under
the dryer in a beauty parlor, in swim-
ming, on roller-skates. And you kept
on saying no."
Incredible as it seems to me now, so
I did.
Then suddenly, one day, the one day
he didn't ask me, I said "Yes."
Immediately I said it, the doubts,
the fears, the reservations and all the
vestiges thereof simply dissolved, like
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the vapors they were, and were gone.
We still had our problems, of course
... no lovers' quarrels, we didn't have
time for them — but small riles and
rifts such as, for instance, when I called
for taxicabs. George has a great aver-
sion to career women who act like
career women. When I called a taxi,
he wouldn't say anything but when the
taxi came, he'd say "Why don't you
open the door?" — and I would. And
he'd get in first! A few of these and
I learned my lessons so well that now
I occasionally forget to open the door
of a cab when I'm alone!
On Thanksgiving Day, 1945, George
kissed me in a taxicab. In January,
1948, we got married.
It was the most exhausting wedding!
As I was dressing for the wedding,
which was in New Jersey, a gala-
spirited neighbor stopped in unexpect-
edly and threw two boxes of rice all
over me and all over the room which
made it impossible, since the floors are
waxed, to keep from slipping and slid-
ing with every step!
GEORGE'S sister and brother-in-law,
driving in from Long Island in a bliz-
zard, arrived with hamburgers in hand,
having had no time to eat on the road.
Hamburgers obviously called for an
accompaniment of hot coffee which,
five minutes before George was due to
arrive for me, I patiently perked!
My sister-in-law-to-be also wanted
to borrow a hat having, she suddenly
wailed aloud, forgotten hers!
As we left the house, my maid called
out the window that I'd forgotten my
purse and my "Something borrowed,
something blue . . ."
On the drive to Jersey, we got stuck
in the snow and George and his brother
literally put their shoulders to the
wheel for a good half hour before we
were on our way again!
Having left the telephone number of
the Judge who was marrying us with
the Registry, in case the air-line should
call us about our reservations for
Havana, two calls for radio jobs came
in for us before George said "I do."
Back in New York, in our apartment
which, during our absence had been
transformed (George's orders) into a
hothouse of the white flowers I love,
we had a champagne supper — and then
my bridegroom left to report back to
work.
The next day, the honeymoon . . .
In the late afternoon of the day the
honeymoon began, George had a lim-
ousine from American Airlines pick
me up at the apartment. On the way
to the airport, we stopped at the
theater where "Brigadoon" is plaving
and George, in full make-up (and on
a week's leave of absence from the
show) got in. Removing his make-up
en route to La Guardia, we made the
plane and took off on what George
calls "The highest honeymoon ever
spent," for Havana.
When we came down in Havana, two
photographers, neither of whom spoke
English, were there to meet us and
accompanied us, snapping like mad, to
the La Nacional where we were stav-
ing. "Two to one," I said to George,
"they have no idea who we are." A bet
I collected when, the next day, the
pictures came out in the papers, cap-
tioned "Mr. and Mrs. Keena."
Since George didn't know how to
rhumba, and neither did I, and both of
us wanted to rhumba in Havana, we
went down, in all innocence, to take
a lesson from the teacher recom-
mended by the hotel as teaching the
"original Cuban rhumba." Teaching
the "original Cuban rhumba" was this
New Yorker — and at twenty dollars
the lesson! George, once in a while,
protests that he can never remember
the steps; I merely say to George
"Twenty dollars" — and George re-
members the steps!
But it's a dreamy place to honey-
moon, Havana. . . . We swam a lot, in
the La Nacional's beautiful, beautiful
pool. We danced the rhumba — the
"original Cuban rhumba," yes, siree,
at Havana's fabulous night-clubs. We
wandered around the streets, watch-
ing the people as, wherever we are, we
like to do. We were in love, in Havana;
we were honeymooning, in Havana . . .
. . . doesn't Havana mean Heaven?
It should.
We act well together. (I'd like to do
a play with George someday.) We live
together well, too. We live very much
for each other. With us, with both of
us, the other person's interest does
come first. We indulge each other.
For instance, I'm fairly extravagant
about clothes; George is fairly extrav-
agant about books and records. We
indulge each other's extravagances.
George likes me to have nice things. I
like George to have the things he
wants.
That our interests are varied, as they
are, brings richness to our relationship.
I am interested in child psychology.
I once took a course in anthropology
at the New School, in New York. I
love interior decorating. I like to paint
materials. I like warmth in rooms — and
in people.
I'm on the Board of Directors of
New Stages, which brought "The Re-
spectful Prostitute" to Broadway.
George is one of the Elia Kazan-Bob-
by Leeis group, now working on pro-
ducing "The Sea Gull." His ambition
in the theater is to be a director.
WE had no lovers' quarrels, while we
were courting, because we didn't have
time for them. We have no married
quarrels because, if an argument arises,
we talk it out at the time, thus pre-
venting a long period of time in which
to be angry. We both know that, in
an argument the one impossible thing
is when people stop talking. We do not
stop talking until one or the other
gives in or until, by mutual agreement,
an agreement which settles the point
in question is reached.
We lead very simple lives, at home;
not part of any big show business
crowd. We walk and drive and swim
and like our friends and want to travel
and hope to have children and, even-
tually, a house in the country, a house
in the sun, a house by the sea . . .
In our marriage, Time is my only
rival; is George's only rival — or ever
will be. Our working time being dif-
ferent, I mean, our lack of time to-
gether. Only on our radio show in the
morning are we together during the
day, then our paths separate until
dinner time and then, with George
going on for the evening performance
and with me going to my class in act-
ing (which I adore) we separate again
until bedtime.
But whether we are together, such
time as we have together, or whether
we are apart, for the first time in our
lives, we really know the meaning of
love. The love you find when you're
mature. A different kind of love than
ever we knew (and feared) before.
A love more rich, more real — in short,
the love we found and, I hope and
pray, "finding's keepings!"
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{Continued from page 27)
96
like the radio for its genuine entertain-
ment have been deeply alarmed at the
manner in which give-away shows are
cutting into the ratings of good per-
formers.
Take Fred Allen, for example. His
program has always enjoyed a large,
loyal following. Now he finds his chief
opposition is Stop the Music. His rat-
ing has dropped steadily while Stop the
Music has risen. This just doesn't make
sense. For in Fred you have a man of
keen wit — and yet a folksy humorist.
His guest stars are always of high cali-
bre. And even when his show falls be-
low par — as it now and then does, Mr.
Allen being only human — it is still head
and shoulders above any give-away
show I ever heard.
It might be well to point out here
that not all give-away shows have a
popular following. But they're the
cheapest show a sponsor can buy in
these money-tight days.
Why? Well, first the talent costs
little. The quizmaster is the most ex-
pensive item. Guest stars are out. No
need to pay a talented performer $1500
when you can give away a new wash-
ing machine instead. And a washing
machine that is absolutely free, so long
as the quizmaster remembers to men-
tion the name of the company.
There are only two programs on the
air that buy the merchandise they give
away. One is County Fair, where the
prizes are rather modest. The other is
Vox Pop, which is currently shopping
around for a new patron.
It seems to me that the actual quiz
shows, those requiring that a contestant
know at least his own name and who
discovered America, retain a certain
parlor game appeal. To the credit of the
quizzes, too, let it be said that the prizes
are reasonable — with a few exceptions.
The jackpot on Break the Bank soars
into the thousands at times — which is
too high for healthy radio. One man
missed a sizable chunk of cash because
he couldn't recall "What famous docu-
ment proclaimed the independence of
the United States?"
Another great moment on Break the
Bank came when a woman announced
that she had ten children. "You have?"
gasped the announcer. "Can you name
them?" The woman obliged. The
studio audience broke into wild ap-
plause and cheers. A mother had ac-
tually remembered the names of her
children! Incredible!
Queen for a Day takes no account of
a lady's learning. To be chosen Queen
you simply must be a wishful thinker
on a grand scale and a full-blown ex-
hibitionist to boot. By her wishes is
Milady judged. A woman whose hus-
band and brother are both policemen
said she had always yearned to direct
traffic in Times Square. She did, and
the newspapers took her picture.
One Queen asked for a husband. An-
other said she wanted to spend the
night atop the Empire State Building.
For these and similar feats Queens
have won a $15,000 chinchilla coat, a
Piper cub plane, a trip to England, a
trailer — and so on. Those at home who
win nothing are assumed to derive a
vicarious thrill from hearing about the
prizes handed out to others.
This practice of giving away prizes on
the air goes back to 1939 and The Pot
o' Gold. For answering the telephone
and admitting that you were you, you
received a check for $1000. If you
weren't in when the program called,
you got a $100 check as consolation.
During the war years, give-away pro-
grams became especially popular be-
cause the prizes were all of the hard-
to-get variety. Nylons, electrical ap-
pliances, automobiles and radios were
standard offerings.
Some of our current give-away shows
are hold-overs from the war. I suppose
they must have merit to survive. But
the new-comers are almost devoid of
merit. Let's scan the list, separate the
swans from the turkeys.
Among the shows that offer entertain-
ment, along with loot, large or small,
I would list Truth or Consequences,
Houseparty, Take It or Leave It and
Vox Pop. Occasionally I've had a
chuckle from People Are Funny (but
not often), from County Fair and Dou-
ble or Nothing. I don't recommend any
of them, however, as steady listening.
That leaves us with a fairly big pen
of turkeys — of -which I won't call the
roll. They tend to blur, after a while.
Fortunately, the radio dial has a wide
range. At almost any hour the listener
has his choice of a dozen programs.
With diligence, you should be able to
find one that isn't giving away grand
pianos to all who recognize the National
Anthem.
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AND HIS FAMOUS
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EVERY NIGHT MONDAY-FRIDAY. NBC
Lowell Thomas
(Continued from page 35)
I saw his broadcasting room, and the
only word that came to my mind was
"impressive." One long wall is a mass
of books; the other is a complete map
of the world which Lowell faces while
he announces the news every evening.
After his evening broadcast,- Lowell
rejoined us for a talk-filled dinner and
for a couple of leisurely hours after-
wards. Then, a little before 11:00 P.M.,
he vanished again — to do his repeat
broadcast for the West. After that, he
stayed out in his studio working until
about 2 A.M., writing a set of books that
he's been preparing for the past two
years. They are the history of mankind,
told in the short biographies of famous
people from the beginning of history
until now — 350 such biographies. By
this coming fall, we'll be able to read
them.
It's a hard-working life he leads, but
certainly a fabulous one. The estate
on which he leads it was bought
only two years ago — for half a million
dollars. Not bad for a man who started
life without a cent, and who spent his
boyhood in a Colorado mining town.
Lowell has his own theory about his
success story — but let me tell my theory
first. I say he's the greatest salesman I
have ever met. Let me give sure-fire
proof with a story I forced out of him
only recently, at his own dinner table:
MANY years back, long before he'd
ever faced a radio mike or dreamed
of having any money, he was an un-
known young man who wanted to write
a book on a world trip he had just made.
Driving with his wife and baby son
along a country road in Dutchess
County, New York State, he suddenly
saw a charming house on a hilltop. He
said to his wife, "Frances, there's the
house where I want to live while I write
this book!"
"But somebody already lives in it —
look at the curtains at the windows,"
objected his wife. Then she added,
"Lowell, why are you driving into the
driveway?" Then, being his wife and
used to such surprises, she sat back
and said nothing further. Her husband
stopped the car in front of the strange
house, rang the doorbell, and said to the
elderly lady who opened the door, "I
love your house; I am a struggling
writer, and my family and I would like
to live here while I write a book."
The owner of the house was naturally
startled. But what happened? After
five minutes of fast talk from Lowell,
she invited him and his wife and baby
to stay with her a year — which they
did! Furthermore, at the end of the
year she offered to sell them the house.
The figure she named was sky-high.
Mrs. Thomas shook her head when she
heard it.
"Too bad, Lowell," she said. "We
haven't a cent, thanks to your financing
those expeditions into India this year —
we can never hope to afford it."
"We'll own it in a week," contradicted
her husband. He rushed off to see
Doubleday Doran, the book publishers.
There he outlined two books — verbally
— and got the biggest advance yet heard
of in the publishing business. Within a
week, they owned the cherished house
— which was their home for many years
until Lowell purchased their present
one, two years ago.
You see what I mean about Lowell's
being a salesman. However, neither his
success nor his salesmanship could have
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been predicted in his youth. Lowell
was born in Woodington, Ohio, fifty-six
years back. His father was Dr. Harry
Thomas, a surgeon who moved his wife
and son to Cripple Creek, Colorado,
right after Lowell was born. Loweli
lived there for the next fourteen years
—an altitude u£ 10,000 feet— and for
nearly all of those years he was Cripple
Creek's star speaker. Not because he
wanted to be, however. "Oh, no,"
Lowell told me, "that was my father's
idea."
His father, you see, was one of those
men you can't help calling a "charac-
ter"— and a wonderful one. "My father,
far from being just a doctor, was fasci-
nated by everything in the world,"
Lowell has told me. "We always had a
telescope in our home through which I
peered for a third of my youth. My
father taught me astrology, botany,
zoology, geology. He read me the Bible
and all of Shakespeare. Before I was
twelve I knew all about comparative
religions. And by the time I was four-
teen I had made more public speeches
than a Presidential candidate. To
whom? To the Elks, Kiwanis, the
miners, and anyone else who'd listen.
And how I hated it!"
What he hated most was the disci-
pline his father had forced on him —
insistence on correct pronunciation, on
never sounding nasal, on reciting dia-
lect poems for practice in variety of
expression. "I hated all of my father's
lessons so much that I decided never
to speak in public again," Lowell
said. "But a year after that decision
something happened that completely
changed my mind."
He went East to a new school. He
was a stranger to the thousands of
students, who all seemed to know each
other. Among them he was silent and
lonely. Then one morning came a school
crisis: the speaker for the assembly
that day was sick. Who would take his
place in announcing the school pro-
gram? "I could," offered Lowell, and
did. That one speech changed his whole
life at school. He saw in astonishment
that after that morning everyone said
hello to him — and later on he was even
elected captain of the football team.
"That was the starting point," Lowell
told me. "From then on, all my life
long, things have showered on me — as
a direct result of my father's teachings
when I was a child."
He went through four different col-
leges like a meteor — and earned his own
living on the side. At the University
of Chicago he was asked to pinch-hit
for a sick professor in the forensic ora-
tory department. "I started out to
pinch-hit, and wound up being a pro-
fessor for my complete course in law
school, teaching thousands of men how
to do courtroom speaking," Lowell said.
After graduating from Chicago, he went
on to Princeton. Here again he was a
professor, this time in the English de-
partment. Meanwhile, all the time he
was attending school he was also re-
porting for local newspapers.
With World War I he ceased being a
professor and a bachelor at the same
time. He married pretty Frances Ryan,
and he went to every front in the war
as a newspaper correspondent. Again,
this was due to salesmanship. A twenty-
two-year-old professor was far too
unimportant to warrant war correspon-
dent's papers — but he talked an influ-
ential newspaper man into backing him
and was on his way to the front. His
reporting was tops. After it was over,
his father's teachings showered fortune
on him again — entirely unexpectedly.
At a party in England before return-
ing to the United States, he met a
British impresario. The Englishman
talked to him a few minutes and then
said suddenly, "You're the only war
correspondent who's also a good speak-
er." Even more abruptly he added, "If
you get up a lecture on the recent war,
I'll pay your expenses throughout a tour
of England. We'll split the profits. Will
you do it?"
The fact that Lowell had never given
public lectures before did not, of course,
stop Lowell. His only answer was,
"Immediately." He then prepared a
lecture that covered every phase of the
war from A to Z, and every battlefront.
He gave it three times — to three bored
and restless audiences. The coughing
and yawning couldn't be ignored, and
he went to his backer about it. "But
I have noticed something," he added.
"Whenever I get to the part about
Lawrence in Arabia, everyone seems to
wake up and hang on every word."
"Then," said the impresario, "why
not forget your original war lecture —
and just talk solely on Lawrence?"
Lowell did. Let me hastily sum-
marize the avalanche of success that
followed : Lowell's lecture on Lawrence
of Arabia became the second most
famous lecture in history— "Acres of
Diamonds," by Russell Conway, being
number one. Lowell himself gave his
Lawrence lecture in every town in
England. Then he sold it to various
lecturers in other countries — it was
eventually given in twenty-one lan-
guages. It was printed repeatedly. And
finally Lowell sat down and wrote a
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book based on it, "With Lawrence in
Arabia."
It was after that that Lowell became
a world traveler. His wife always went
with him, and he concentrated on writ-
ing up his own adventures and other
men's — into forty books. Among them
were such best-sellers as Count Luck-
ner the Sea-Devil, India, Land of the
Black Pagoda, and Beyond Khyber
Pass. Radio? He'd never thought of
it. By 1930 he was an established travel
writer who lived in that house on a
hill top and never came into New York.
That is, until a wealthy Philadelphian
named William Paley bought into CBS
and began searching for a radio news-
caster. At that time Floyd Gibbons was
the only news commentator in radio;
he spoke on the Literary Digest pro-
gram over Paley's big rival NBC. Three
things happened: Literary Digest
dropped Gibbons; then they moved over
to CBS; and then Paley began shouting
up and down the streets of New York,
"Where is a man who can announce
news for the Literary Digest?"
SOMEBODY shouted back, "Lowell
Thomas!" Lowell found himself
hauled out of his quiet house in the
country. After, when the Digest failed,
an oil company put the same Thomas
voice on the air at the same hour for a
sixteen-year period. Now, with his
soap sponsor, Thomas has hit the
eighteen-year record — with no inter-
ruptions ever. He manages, by Thomas
salesmanship, to get in long skiing
trips: he talks his sponsors into letting
him broadcast from whatever ski lodge
he goes to in Canada, Vermont, or New
Hampshire. Radio experts set up all he
needs in his hotel room. On his world
trips he broadcasts from wherever he
stands on the globe. Thanks to his
voice and his selling ability, Thomas
lives ten lives instead of one!
But the most prominent of these lives
is his family one. His wife Frances
long ago made the rule, "We won't have
our house look like a museum" — so all
of Lowell's travel trophies, from Afri-
can masks to Hindu robes, are kept in
an enormous third-floor rumpus room.
Their son Lowell Jr. has added quite
a collection of his own — for in his
twenty-four years Lowell Jr. has built
up a travel history almost as big as his
old man's. At fifteen, he was a camera-
man with Admiral Kimmel on a trip
around South America; at sixteen, he
and his camera went on an Alaskan
expedition; at seventeen, he was moun-
tain-climbing in British Columbia; at
eighteen, he was a flier in the war.
Bikini's atom bomb tests found Lowell
Jr. piloting an observation plane.
Next to his wife and son, Lowell's
affection goes to the Quaker Hill com-
munity where he lives. It's Lowell who
arranges for all the famous speakers
who talk at the Quaker Hill Community
Center — which is to say, the country
club. It's also Lowell who organizes,
every summer, his "Nine Old Men"
baseball team — the most unprofessional
ball players in the history of sports.
Some of the Thomas henchmen have
been Governor Thomas E. Dewey, Ed-
die Rickenbacker, Ed Thorgerson, Rob-
ert Montgomery, Gene Tunney, Babe
Ruth, Ted Husing, and Lanny Ross.
They play against any challenger — last
summer's big threat being opera singer
James Melton's group, "The Ancient
Spark Pluggers." To explain: these
are men who, like Melton, collect an-
tique automobiles — and who drove
doggedly in them to the baseball dia-
mond without which Hammersley Hill
would not be Lowell's estate!
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Paul and Nicolette
(Continued from page 65)
room Nicolette went on into the hall,
and then downstairs to her own room.
There she collapsed into a small up-
holstered chair, her knees shaking, her
breath coming fast and unevenly.
She had been a fool to go with Teddy
in the first place, she scolded herself.
It was all over now — the pretense that
her visit there was a casual one. Not
simply because Paul's eyes had told her
that she was beautiful — they had told
her that before, under conditions she
trusted better, when she'd been tired
and drawn from lack of sleep, and
dirty because there was no water in
which to bathe, and pinched and blue
with cold. Nor had it been the inti-
macy of the incident — in a sense they
had lived more intimately before, in
the weeks they had worked together.
She had watched over his sleeping
face on planes and trains and in the
native hut where she had nursed him
through the injuries he'd received in
Africa . . . and in the freezing Nurn-
berg cottage, where, wrapped in their
separate cocoons of blankets, they had
shared the same room for the sake of
safety and the feeble warmth of a tiny
charcoal fire.
BUT it had been a different intimacy.
The mission that bound them to-
gether had also kept them apart; with
their eyes fixed upon their goal, there
had been little time for looking at
each other. Here, Paul was a man in his
own home, and she was — what? Some-
thing more than a visitor, certainly,
but just what, exactly? She had seen
the question in the eyes of the family,
but she herself had not thought it
needed an answer — until now. Now
she realized that she herself needed to
know the answer. She must have a
talk with Paul at the first opportunity.
The opportunity came some time la-
ter, and under shocking circum-
stances. A few days after their arrival
in San Francisco, she and Paul went
to Sky Ranch to visit Claudia and Clif-
ford. Paul asked Teddy to accompany
them, and Teddy refused — emphati-
cally, Nicolette gathered, and with
something of her old bitterness. Nico-
lette was not present at the scene, but
Paul told her a little about it, and his
distress and uncertainty as to what to
do about Teddy told her a great deal
more. She was not surprised, then,
when upon their return from the ranch
they were met with the news that
Teddy had packed her bags and gone
back to her job, leaving no word ex-
cept that she positively did not wish
to be followed or asked to return.
Paul was stunned. He had come back
from the ranch rested and with high
hopes that a solution could be found
for Teddy — and now this!
"I don't understand," he said over
and over again to Nicolette. "Why — "
"I think I understand," said Nico-
lette. "It's an old pattern, isn't it?
Anyone in whom Paul is interested. . ."
"But she threw us together! She
wanted it, from the first time she met
us in Nurnberg — "
Men, thought Nicolette pityingly.
Even Paul in all his wisdom, to whom
the whole family turned for advice and
aid in their most delicate problems, was
helpless when it became a matter of the
devious methods of a woman who had
set her heart upon him.
"That was different," said Nicolette.
"That was Germany. There she had
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her work; there she was a nurse, doing
an important job for people who
needed her. She was not so much
Teddy Barbour, foster-daughter of
Paul Barbour. I think she may have
been wise in wanting to stay there,
Paul, in not wanting to come back with
us. Once she came back here, there
were the old conditions, the old feeling
of frustration — "
"But," he protested, "even the first
day or two after we got here — the day
she put you in her negligee and per-
fumed you and brought you up to my
studio — "
"Don't you see?" she interrupted.
"That was her desperate effort to live
up to what she had said and done about
us in Germany. She felt the old an-
tagonisms rising, and she went over-
board to make you conscious of me,
to cover up what was happening inside
her."
Paul thought about it. "You think
so?" he asked slowly. "It all seems — "
Nicolette nodded. "It all came back
— everything she'd ever felt when you'd
shown interest in a woman. She sank
back into the same old waters of de-
spair. She felt the waves of anger and
frustration and disillusion sweeping
over her, and she hated herself . . .
which, incidentally, made her hate me."
"Not you personally — "
"DERHAPS not," she agreed. "I think
I perhaps her mind approved of me,
liked me. But her heart was a different
matter. Her heart she could not
control."
"I suggested a psychiatrist," Paul ad-
mitted, "when she fairly flew at me for
insisting that she go with us to Sky
Ranch."
"I see," said Nicolette softly.
"And—"
He shook his head. "She reviled me.
She said 'I offer you my love, and you
offer me a cure for a sick spirit.' "
"Oh!" said Nicolette, and felt a little
sick in spirit herself. Things had been
even worse for Teddy than she had re-
alized. "Paul, I ought not to have
come. The poor girl was so unhappy —
I should not have been here to torment
her."
"But that's fantastic!" he started up
angrily. "The girl is my daughter! Am
I to be deprived of any sort of natural
relationships with all women because
Teddy can't bear the idea? That's mak-
ing normal people bow down to a
neurotic — "
"All the same," said Nicolette, "I
should not have come. Which brings
me to a question I have been wanting
to ask you — Why have you kept me
with you? Why didn't you say, after we
delivered Patricia Baldwin into safe
hands back in New York, 'Nicolette
Moore, it has been nice knowing you,
but now that the adventure is over —
goodbye'?"
Some of the shadow lifted from his
face; his eyes twinkled a little. "Why
didn't you say that to me?"
"I had intended to," she returned.
"I thought that when we arrived in
New York from Germany our paths
would separate. I supposed that you
and Teddy would come on West, and I
had intended to go to Florida to await
my next call from Washington."
"Isn't it just as simple to await the
call here in California?" he asked.
"You know it isn't," she answered
shortly. "In Florida there is no Paul
Barbour. I would not have made
Teddy unhappy, nor Father Barbour
unhappy — "
"Father Barbour!" he exclaimed.
"Nicolette, can't you distinguish be-
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102
fPloa.c Print)
tween an elderly man who finds fault
with everything and everyone and a
man who is really antagonistic?"
"Yes — " She crossed over to the win-
dow, stared unseeingly out, drumming
her fingers upon the pane. Over her
shoulder she said, "I can see that some
day your father might sit down in
friendly acceptance of me, given time
for adjustment. But — " She didn't fin-
ish. But, her thoughts ran, you still
haven't answered my question.
SHE heard him get up from his chair,
take a few restless steps toward her
and away again. When he spoke, it
was so suddenly and in so altered a tone
that she started.
"Nicolette — I want to ask you some-
thing. Have you sincerely considered
what you would do if I were to ask you
to marry me?"
"Is that a fair question?" she asked
without turning.
"Perhaps not," he admitted. "We've
never discussed marriage^and now I'm
sorry Teddy made so much of it be-
cause sometimes I wonder if I'm think-
ing about it because she put the idea
there or because it's what's in my own
heart. And you — you must have given
it some thought, too. I'm sure you
have."
"Thought?" she repeated in a far-
away voice. "Yes — but what I've
thought is for me alone to know."
"Oh." He sounded rebuffed, shut out.
Then, understanding, he said, "You
mean until I've said to you, 'Nicolette,
will you marry me'?"
"Yes." She turned and faced him,
glad that her voice was steady, glad
that they could discuss this fragile sub-
ject as openly and honestly as they had
discussed everything else. "When you
have, said that to me, then there will
be time enough to know my true
thoughts on the subject."
"You know," he warned her, "it
would mean giving up this interna-
tional espionage work for which you
have trained yourself. It would mean
coming to this house to live. Dad and
Mom are old people. If I were to go
away and leave them, this house which
has been their home for so long would
be too much for them."
"But it isn't good, Paul," said Nico-
lette, "for a man to bring a new wife
into his parents' home. Even the low-
liest peasant on the Siberian Steppes
knows that."
"On the contrary," he replied, "I
think Mother and Dad would receive a
wife I chose into this house with great
happiness and relief. If they could
live the rest of their lives under this
roof without the worries and tribula-
tions of housekeeping, I think it would
solve a great problem in their lives. I
know it's a nice problem to present to
any girl — but all these things would
have to be considered by anyone I
asked to marry me."
"I see." She was silent a moment.
Then she asked, "Is — is that why you
have not married sooner?"
"No."
She waited, finally probed gently, "Do
you mind saying why?"
"No." His voice was flat, deliberate.
"Because there has been no one since
the girl I did marry and lost with whom
I had any desire to spend the rest of
my future."
The answer fell like a stone into the
pool of silence and stillness which
seemed suddenly to have filled her.
"But now — ?" she thought, and closed
her lips tightly. She would ask no
more questions for which no answers
were forthcoming. No, it was perhaps
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better to go, to leave this house, and
to return to her own life, as Teddy
had done.
BUT she did not leave, for a reason as
old as family life itself. She was
needed. The children and grandchil-
dren came to the house singly and in
groups at all hours, and the amount of
work they made for Mother Barbour
was incredible. Hazel and Betty and
Claudia helped as they always had, but
they had their own houses and their
own families; they were glad to turn
the work over to other hands.
The day came when even Father
Barbour made his peace with her, over
a pared apple.
He went up to Paul's studio one aft-
ernoon and found Nicolette there be-
fore him, comfortably curled up in the
deep chair across from Paul's. He was
testy .about it until Nicolette quar-
tered an apple for him, shaving the peel
off tissue-thin.
"To your taste?" she asked, handing
it to him and smiling a little.
"Eh?" he grunted. "Urn — yes. Why,
even Fanny doesn't pare the skin of an
apple so thin!"
Paul grinned. "One of Nicolette's
habits from early training. Waste
nothing — "
"If you think that is something," put
in Nicolette, "you should see me with
a potato. In fact, it makes me feel bad
to remove the jacket from a potato. In
my girlhood days they were always
eaten down to the last crumb."
"I abhor waste," said Father Bar-
bour positively, and the glance he gave
her from under his brows was not so
sharp as formerly.
Nicolette's eyes sparkled. Now, she
thought, is the time . . . Rising, she
said, "You will want to excuse me. I
think often that I am too much in Paul's
studio . . . there must be talk enough
that I am in the house at all."
Father Barbour stared, and exploded,
"Talk! Why should there be talk? Why
shouldn't you be here?"
"After all," she reminded him de-
murely, "Paul and I were on a mission
together. There is only our word for
our integrity; there is only our word
for what goes on in this house."
Father Barbour rose majestically.
Miss Moore," he thundered, "let me
put you straight on one subject! So
long as our confidence in Paul is secure,
which I guarantee you it is, then you
have nothing to concern yourself about
within the confines of the Barbour
clan. What other people may say or
think is a matter over which I have no
control nor wish to, a matter about
which I have not the slightest concern!
Um — won't you have a piece of this
apple?"
Nicolette took the apple and left
them, exchanging a dancing glance with
Paul as she went. Then Paul turned to
his father, still grinning. "Trying to
read something in my face, Dad?"
"No more," said the old man, "than
you're trying to read in mine."
"Oh, I know what you're thinking,"
Paul replied. "You're saying to your-
self, 'Paul, don't be a fool. Don't let
this one get away from you.' "
"That's all you know," returned his
father. "I wasn't thinking any such
thing. I was thinking, 'By George, if I
were forty years younger and a single
man . . .' "
AND then, after weeks, months, of
Nicolette's being a part of the family,
the letter came from Washington, ask-
ing her to stand by for a new assign-
ment, and to be ready to leave within
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the month. Mother Barbour took to
her bed with a violent sick headache.
Father Barbour, who had never before
been known to miss a meal, was able
to put down only a cup of coffee at
breakfast and nothing at all at lunch;
he retreated to his favorite chair in
the library, shutting himself in with
his black thoughts.
Paul and Nicolette talked it over
in the studio at the top of the house.
"But it doesn't say that you have to
leave immediately," Paul said. "It
says within the next month. And I
guess from this that whatever your as-
signment is to be, it will not be out-
side the United States."
Nicolette bit her lips. After all this
time, he was shaken, searching for
something to cling to. She tempered
her impulse toward kindness. "I could
very well be," she said. "After all,
there is nothing to indicate .that it
won't be on the other side of the
world."
"The other side of — Nicolette, there's
no need for you to have anything more
to do with that sort of life. Stay here.
There's need for you here. You're
wanted. Stay here, and — and — "
"And what?"
He hesitated, and plunged. "Marry
me."
She smiled sadly, shaking her head.
"Ah — you finally said it, didn't you?
But it was so hard! And right now, I'd
feel like the meanest and cheapest of
women if I had any intention of ac-
cepting what you offer."
"But if I hadn't meant it — "
"No, Paul. This isn't the time or the
place for you and me to talk of mar-
riage. I would never marry anyone
in a moment of haste or panic. That
is not the way."
"But if you once leave us — "
She leaned forward, and he thought
that he must have been mad not to
have asked her before. Never had she
seemed so lovely, so in earnest, so
right.
"Paul — if our relationship is so
ephemeral that three or even six
months' separation will dissolve our in-
terest, then it is a poor thing indeed.
This is what I suggest: I will accept
this assignment. It will not be less
than three months, I know that. When
it is finished, if it is still your wish, I
will come back here. Then perhaps all
of us will know better what we want."
"I know now," Paul insisted. "Nico-
lette, I mean it. The idea of your leav-
ing is pure desolation. Stay here. Marry
me. Make your home — "
Still she shook her head. "Hush,
Paul! Say those words to me when I
come back again — then perhaps I will
believe them!"
With that, he had to be content. Nico-
lette would not move an inch from her
stand, not with all the pressure of the
family upon her . . . not until the final,
confirming telegram had arrived and
she was actually packing. Then she
considered it unfair that Paul came
upon her uninvited and unannounced
except for a tap on her door.
"Come in," she called without turn-
ing from the suitcase she had open on
the bed. "I do not have much time —
you will excuse me if I go ahead with
what I have to do?"
"VES," Paul agreed in a hollow voice,
land looked at his watch. "Five-fifteen
your plane leaves, and it's two-forty-
five right now. Nicolette — wire Wasn-
ington you're not coming."
She straightened, facing him. "And
what would I say in such a wire,
please?"
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"Dear Washington," said Paul
promptly, "unexpectedly detained by
matrimony. Please drop my name
from your list of available agents."
She bent low over her packing.
"Don't make it any harder," she
whispered.
"Nicolette, look at me — " When she
turned her face aside, he got up, came
around the bed and turned her toward
him, his hand hard upon her arms.
"Nicolette! You've been crying — "
She tried to pull away. "Do you
think it's fun for me?" she flung at
him. "To leave a house where I've put
down such roots, where I've had the
best time in my whole life — "
He shook her a little. "Don't fight it,
Nicolette. Did it ever occur to you that
sometimes being strong is not strength
at all, but only a defiance, a weapon
against fear?"
He'd hit home. Her eyes were enor-
mous, pleading with him. "Don't say
that," she begged. "It is difficult
enough, and now you would turn me
against myself."
"Not against yourself." He spoke
softly, but some of the joy and tri-
umph that filled him escaped into his
voice. "I only want you to stop fight-
ing yourself. Standing there with
your head up and your fists clenched,
you look exactly like a person before
a firing squad — there's nothing left but
to stand and take it — "
She went limp suddenly, sagging
against him. And the tears came, a
steady stream, all the more terrifying
because no sound accompanied them.
He let her go, stricken at what he
had done — to her, and to his own
cause. The firing squad, he thought;
her husband . ... Of all the clumsy,
blundering —
"Nicolette, forgive me," he pleaded.
"I felt like a great big thick-skulled
oaf — "
"Please don't." She shook her head,
managed a wavery smile. "It would
not have affected me this way if I
weren't already so emotional over leav-
ing all of you. Now please help me to
pack; help me to get away as grace-
fully and easily as I can."
In the hall Paul encountered his fa-
ther, who was on his way upstairs to
join Mother Barbour in the studio. The
two men hesitated, stopped; then Fa-
ther Barbour asked heavily, "Soon?"
"In about half an hour," Paul an-
swered. "It'll take us an hour to get
to the airport. She'd like to see us all
before she leaves."
Paul went on downstairs to tele-
phone. Father Barbour made his way
to the studio, where his wife sat finger-
ing through her button box, a treasure
trove collected over a lifetime.
"Betty asked me for a pearl sun-
burst the other day," she greeted him
absently, "and I'm sure I have one — "
"Buttons!" snorted Father Barbour.
"Fanny, what are we going to do about
that boy? Nicolette's leaving in half
an hour, and Paul — well, for all he's so
capable in settling other people's prob-
lems, apparently he's unable to solve
his own."
"Oh, no, Henry." She smiled up at
him over the buttons. Fanny Barbour
had her own reserves of strength. She
had had her moment of panic over
Nicolette's leaving; then she had
thought it through and had arrived at
her own comforting conclusions.
"Nicolette's no problem," she said
confidently. "The solution to that one
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she goes from man to man In her frenzied search for love. "Best
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for amorous excitement—
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RADIO
MIRROR
AND TELEVISION
Janette Davis
ome on _ swpob
the Big Moment's waiting!
Got to get the table set
with that new chestful of
million-dollar silverware !"
Know why it looks like a
million? Because it bears
those two silverwise old
names — 1881 Cj|? Rogers Cg?
and Oneida. Naturally,
the pattern's these artists
in silver turn out have
authority, grace, style.
And don't be afraid your
1881 (§g Rogers <j| will wear
out — your set's wear-areas
are heavily reinforced with
solid silver. So, set the
table you've dreamed of,
three times a day! Constant
use just makes this silver-
ware lovelier! Choose your
pattern, and an easy-payment
plan today. 5-piece place
setting, $4.50. Complete
services for 8 start at
$39.75. No federal tax.
1551
2$ 'ROGERS ©
•&£
««£-
Tim and Tina, just found out their new silverware has arrived' I
i
SILVERPLATE
6y
.Tor young people
who take pride in living nicely
Pattern shown is the new Plantation* '.. *Tjrada' Mark. copyright, 1948, Oneida, Ltd
Keeptfcur hand? evening-soft all chu l/ong'-k
~~Jhis> fabulous lotion i? double-beautii magic
h
ere
**.
,M'A
as well a$ here... %
t tard-at-work and "on display," your
-*- -*• hands lead a double life. So — pamper
them with the double-beauty magic of
Trushay.
Trushay, you see, is first of all a velvet-
soft lotion — with a wondrous touch you've
never known before. A luxury lotion for
all your lotion needs — a joy to use any
time. Every fragrant, peach-colored drop
is so rich, your hands feel softer and
smoother instantly!
Yet . . . Trushay's magic doesn't stop
there. It also brings to you a fabulous
"beforehand" extra!
Smoothed on your hands before doing
dishes or light laundry, Trushay protects
them even in hot, soapy water. Guards
them from drying damage. So your hands
stay evening-soft all day long!
Adopt Trushay's double-beauty help —
begin today to use Trushay!
TRUSHAY
A PRODUCT OF BRISTOL-MYERS
the lotion with the "beforehand" extra
OCTOBER. 1948
VOL. 30, NO. 5
RADIO
MIRROR
AXI> TELEVISION
KEYSTONE
"Colgate Denial Cream's active penetrating
foam gets into hidden crevices between teeth
— helps clean out decaying food particles — ■
stop stagnant saliva odors — remove the cause
of much bad breath. And Colgate's soft pol-
ishing agent cleans enamel thoroughly,
gently and safely'"
LATER-Thanks to Colgate Dental Cream
Alwayt ore
COLGATE DENTAL CREAM
offer you eof and hefore
every date
Radio Mirror Second Annual Awards 23
Remember the Silver-Masked Tenor? by Dwight Weist 24
That Man Named Moore by Howard Sharpe 26
It Happened on Hint Hunt by Marjorie Copperthite 28
Come and Visit Irene Beasley by Llewellyn Miller 30
Box 13 — a Picture-Story 34
Memo to County Limerick by Christopher Lynch 38
Take Me Out to the Ball Game!— In Pictures 40
Traveler of the Month by Tommy Bartlett 44
Bride and Groom Who Were Right for Each Other by John Nelson 52
Life Can Be Beautiful — Through the Years in Pictures 54
Radio Mirror Quiz by Bill Cullen 3
Facing the Music by Duke Ellington 10
Harry Wightman 12
Collector's Corner by Thelonious Monk 13
What's New from Coast to Coast by Dale Banks 14
Look At the Records by Joe Martin 18
Inside Radio 64
It's Here ! 67
Information Booth . .. HO
Slim Schedule by Mary Jane Fulton 6
Between the Bookends by Ted Malone 42
Food and Frolic by Kate Smith 62
Hobbies Help by Terry Burton 68
Life Can Be Beautiful 82
Coast to Coast in Television 46
Leave It to the Girls 48
WMCA: Symphony Sid 4
WFIL: Every woman's Anice Ives 8
KDKA : Network Voice, Hometown Complex 16
WBEN: He Looks Like A Musician 20
WJR: Reporter At Large 50
RADIO MIRROR READER BONUS
The Life of Arthur Godfrey — Novelette by Ira Knaster 58
ON THE COVER: Arthur Godfrey, Janette Davis and Tony Marvin;
color portraits by Ozzie Sweet
Editorial Director
FRED It. SAMMIS
Managing Editor
EVELYN L. FIORE
Editor
DORIS McFEKRAN
Art Director
JACK ZASORIN
Associate Art Director
FRANCES MALT
Television Research
JOAN MURPHY LLOYD TERU GOTO
Chicago Office: Editor. HELEN CAMBRIA BOLSTAD
Hollywood Office: Editor, ANN DAGGETT Managing Editor. FRANCES MORRIN
Staff Photographers. HYMIE FINK, STERLING SMITH:
Assistant. BETTY JO RICE
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR, published monthly Dy MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS, INC., New York, N. Y.
General Business, Editorial and Advertising Offices, 205 East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Hollywood— Beverly
Hlllfl Office: 321 S. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, California. O. J. Elder, President; Harold Wise, Executive Vice
President; Herhert Drake, vice President; Joseph Schultz, Vice President; S. O. Shapiro, Vice President; Ernest V.
Hevn, Vice President; Meyer Dworkln, Secretary and Treasurer; Edward F. Lethen, Advertising Director. Chicago
Office: 22-1 North La Salle St., Leslie R. Gage, Mgr. San Francisco office: 1613 Russ Building. Joseph M. Dooher.
Mil. Los Angeles OnVc: Sulle 1108, 649 Soulh Olive SI.. George Weailierl.y, MET. Charles O. Terwillfger, Jr., East-
ern Advertising Manager, 205 East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Reentered as Second Class matter March 1, 1948,
at the Post office at New York, N. Y. under the Act of March 3. 1879. Subscription rates: U. S. and Possessions,
Canada and Newfoundland, 82.50 per year. All other countries $5.00 per year. Price per copy: 25c In the United
States ond Canada. While Manuscripts, Photographs and Drawings are submitted at the owner's risk, every eflTort
will be made to return those found unavailable if accompanied by sufficient first class postage and explicit name and
address. Contributors are especially advised to be sure to retain copies of their contributions; otherwise they
are taking unnecesaarv risk. The contents of this magazine may not be reprinted either wholly or In part without
OGrm (Member of Macfadden Women's Croup)
Copyright, 194B, by Macfadden Publications, Inc. All rights reserved under International Copyright Convention. All
rights reserved under Pan-American Copyright Convention. Todos derechoa reservados Begun La Convenclon Pan.
anierlcana de Prnoledad Llterarla y Artistica. Title trademark registered In U. S. Patent Office.
Printed In U. S. A. by Art Color Printing Co.. Dunellen. N. T.
RADIO MIRROR QUIZ
Bill Cullen, Guest
, Quizmaster, is M.C. of
Winner Take All
Mondays Through Fridays,
5:30 P.M., EST
and Hit the Jackpot,
Tuesday, 9:30 P. M., EST,
on CBS
1. Favorite friend of
Charlie McCarthy.Who
is she?
2. Judy Canova started
out to be (a) an opera
singer (b) a ventrilo-
quist (c) a model.
3. Jack Benny was
born in (a) Waukegan
(b) St. Joe (c) Chicago.
4. What famous radio
singing star started his
career as a cantor?
5. Walter Winchell
was once (a) a printer
(b) singing usher (c)
criminal investigator.
iSlJ
MY FAVORITE QUIZ QUESTIONS:
(a) Who was William Shakespeare's wife?
(b) Which travels faster — a bullet or sound?
ANSWERS:
puooas d |8aj QOZ'Z +n°SD sso6 || -+3||nq y (q)
Admdl|^d|_| uuy (d)
jsijsn 6ui6u;s '3
uos|or |v >
0&D3JIO •£
jabuis Djsdo uy '3
UOpJO0 o+iuy '|
X WW Sit out
ik
I'm a safety-first giri with Mum
As a skating partner, Beautiful— you keep the boys
going around in circles . . . around you. And with Mum
for protection against underarm odor, you'll stay nice
to be near.
So never trust your charm to anything but dependable
Mum. Remember, your bath only washes away past
perspiration— but Mum prevents risk of future under-
arm odor. Get Mum today!
Product of Bristol-Myers
Mum
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Mum
safer for charm
safer for skin
safer for clothes
Mum checks perspiration odor, protects
your daintiness all day or all evening.
Because Mum contains no harsh or irri-
tating ingredients. Snow-white Mum is
gentle— harmless to skin.
No damaging ingredients in Mum to rot
or discolor fine fabrics. Economical Mum
doesn't dry out in the jar. Quick, easy to
use, even after you're dressed.
Platoons of be-bop fans drop in regularly at WMCA studios to visit Sid's all-night, all-frantic show.
Sid defines the "new sounds in
music "as "ultimate modern jazz."
IT'S A LONG WAY from Stravinsky to be-
bop— or is it?
"Not if you're real gone," says Symphony
Sid (Sid Torin), that wonderful, wonderful hep
character whose new WMCA all-night, all-
frantic show is the most serious threat to sleep
since the discovery of insomnia.
Technically speaking, be-bop has been de-
scribed as often-dissonant, staccato music which
seldom follows a formal pattern. In other
words, be-boppers aren't concerned with play-
ing it "straight." And Stravinsky, a real "gone"
composer to the followers of the latest rhythm
rage, hates musical regimentation too.
Equipped with a battery of twelve telephones
requiring two extra all-night operators, Sid
handles an average of 2000 requests for records
each night on his Midnight to Dawn patrol.
"We're peddling modern jazz," explains Sym-
phony Sid, "not that synthetic commercial stuff."
He means the music of Thelonious Monk (some-
times called the father of be-bop), the "won-
derful" Dizzy Gillespie, Tad Dameron, Sarah
Vaughan and Illinois Jacquet, the great jazz-
man who recently composed a "real gone side"
called "Symphony In Sid."
Sid, a handsome New Yorker, has been in
radio for more than thirteen years although
he's still in his early thirties. Born and brought
up on New York's East Side, he became a sales-
man in record shops after graduating from
Thomas Jefferson High School.
Soon he owned his own record shop on 42nd
Street. He called his place the Symphony Shop,
and one of his best customers was Station
WBNX in the Bronx. One day the general
manager offered Torin a fifteen-minute spot
for a recorded jazz session. Two weeks later
Sid sold the record shop.
After three and a half years on WBNX, Sid
moved to WHOM in Jersey City where he
gained thousands of rabid followers in a decade
of broadcasting. Now he's in the "big time"
with his all-night stint on America's leading
independent station.
In addition to his radio activities, Symphony
Sid is m.c. at the Royal Roost, Broadway's
"Bop-era" House.
Never Again!
THIS IS HER FIRST DATE with him . . . and it will be her
last. When the picture is over he is going to hustle
her home faster than jet propulsion. And she won't
know why*!
BEFORE ANY DATE where you want to be at your best,
isn't it just plain common sense to be extra careful
about your breath? You, yourself, may not realize
when it is off-color.
AFTER ALL, THERE IS NOTHING that puts romance on the
run like a case of halitosis* (unpleasant breath).
Why run such a risk when Listerine Antiseptic pro-
vides such a delightful, extra precaution?
SIMPLY RINSE THE MOUTH with Listerine Antiseptic, and,
lo, your breath is sweeter, fresher, less likely to
offend; keeps it that way, too . . . not for minutes
but for hours!
SMART PEOPLE, popular people never, never omit
Listerine Antiseptic. It's an extra careful precaution
that- often spells the difference between popularity
and oblivion.
WHILE SOME CASES of halitosis are of systemic origin,
most cases, say some authorities, are due to the
bacterial fermentation of tiny food particles clinging
to mouth surfaces. Listerine Antiseptic halts such
fermentation, then overcomes the odors fermenta-
tion causes. Use it night and morning and before
any date, business or social.
Lambert Pharmacal Company, St. Louis, Mo.
BEFORE ANT DATE LISTERINE ANTISEPTIC
FOR ORAL HYGIENE
P.S. IT'S NEW! Have you tried Listerine TOOTH PASTE, the MINTY 3-way prescription for your teeth?
,99
Yon can
.say "yes
to Romance
Veto says "no"
to Offending!
Veto lay* "now-to perspiration
worry and odor! Soft as a caress . . .
exciting, new, Veto is Colgate's wonderful
cosmetic deodorant. Always creamy and
smooth, Veto is lovely to use, keeps you
lovely all day! Veto stops underarm odor
instantly, checks perspiration effectively.
Veto nii.vn "no"— to harming Hkln
and iIoiIicn! So effective ... yet so
gentle — Colgate's Veto is harmless to nor-
mal skin. Harmless, too, even to filmy,
most fragile fabrics. For Veto alone con-
tains Duratex, Colgate's exclusive ingredi-
ent to make Veto safer. No other deodorant
can be like Veto!
TRUST ALWAYS TO VETO
MP YOU VAJLUJB YOUR t II Ait HI I
SCHEDULE
By Mary Jane Fulton
Tc>nec6e a AcAedme wibetu, abjpo C/taMo^d did,
ONE who knows how difficult it is to
carry a reducing plan through to
a successful finish is Jo Stafford,
lovely feminine singing star of NBC's
Supper Club program. She stands 5' 7"
tall in her stocking feet. A couple of
years ago she weighed 180 pounds. Now
she tips the scales at a neat 143 pounds.
Her incentive for losing weight was
necessity. In spite of her lovely con-
tralto voice, every time she sang before
an audience she felt self-conscious
about her appearance. Psychologically
Jo says, this wasn't good for her, any
more than it would be for you when at-
tention is directed your way. For in-
stead of thinking about how she looked,
she should have been giving all her at-
tention to her singing. So she went to
her doctor.
In six months, by following his in-
structions, she acquired a lovely figure.
Now, she is happy to say, she receives
a real ovation, and an occasional whistle
when she appears on stage, instead of
the former polite applause.
After giving her a complete physical
examination, Jo's doctor put her on a
high protein diet. This meant cutting
down on sweets, starches and fats, and
eating more meat, eggs, fish, fresh vege-
tables and fruits. She had been used
to eating two meals a day, and any foods
she wanted. When on the diet, she had
to eat three meals daily. But they were
the right foods to take off weight and
keep her healthy. Because of an out-
right dislike for them, she asked her
doctor not to insist that she also do ex-
ercises. Jo told him she preferred to
get her exercise by walking, swimming,
and playing badminton. Usually, you
know, some form of exercise is required,
along with dieting, so that the muscles
don't become flabby. And as Jo was
getting hers in her own way, this was,
apparently, all right with her wise
doctor.
Before you decide to reduce, have
your physician give you a thorough ex-
amination. He will then prescribe for
you, just as Jo's doctor did for her.
There are other ways to reduce. You
can enroll in a salon course. A good
home course by mail outlines a diet,
pictures suggestions for fixing tempting
dishes within diet requirements. And
there are good books telling how to
whittle off inches here and there. If
you'd like to reduce by one of these
methods, confide your wish to your
physician.
Jo points out that eating is just a
habit. She has always been a great
bread eater. Rich foods tasted good to
her, and she indulged in them more
than she should. Now she's formed the
new habit of not wanting .them, except
occasionally. It was just~as hard for
her to make up her mind to stick to
her dieting, as it would be for you. But,
once you do make up your mind, you've
acquired a willpower that will win out
over temptation. You'll find that you
enjoy being a martyr for a very good
cause — yourself!
RADIO MIRROR for RETTER LIVING
THE WINNER!
bringing a New Kind of
Beauty to your skin
WOODBURY
POWDER!
"More warmth, more life
in Woodbury shades!"
—vows Jeni Freeland of
Knoxville, Term., in praise of
New Woodbury Powder.
"Smoothest look my skin
has ever known!" says
Leona Fredricks of
Miami Beach, Florida.
voted ^iaVOtite l#* ^oodb^. a
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4 out o« &V Qtl atv* ^ ^det.
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0vevaUV ^e«)W0;^ see *or
Sa Jorv' ^ «7i0^y • ' 1/fi fa*5*
vo^1;S^me y
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"I never used to wear powder-
hate that 'made-up' look. But Woodbury
gives skin a glow that's super!" writes
Kay Crystal of Pelham Manor, N. Y.
TWICE NEW!
New Secret Ingredient gives a
smooth-as-satin finish to your skin!
New Revolutionary Process!
Woodbury "Super-Blender" gives warmest,
liveliest colors, finest-ever texture.
6 exciting shades — Get New Woodbury
Powder — in the new "Venus" box — at any
cosmetic counter. Large size $1.00. Medium and
"Purse" sizes 30? and 15< (plus tax)
Anice Ives' annual luncheons attract thousands of women; her radio club numbers over 40,000 members.
One of her first
acts was to take
the program from
kitchen to parlor.
LIKE SO many others in the field, Anice Ives — who's
been on the air for seventeen years — got her radio
start by accident rather than design. Her successful
record over almost two decades of broadcasting proves
that the WFIL star has made the most of the opportunity!
The dean of Philadelphia women commentators was
born in upstate New York. She became a Philadelphian
when she married Louis Ancker, one of the legitimate
theater's busiest and most capable people. Miss Ives
joined her husband in a swing of the nation's theaters,
acting in the stock companies managed by him.
In 1931, the Anckers returned to Philadelphia, where
Mr. Ancker became program director and special an-
nouncer for a Quaker City radio station. When that
station's home economist suddenly was taken ill, Miss
Ives drew the assignment of replacing her.
Aside from having done one dramatic bit opposite her
husband, Miss Ives had had no previous radio experi-
ence. She did have one thing, however — the successful
broadcaster's stock in trade, a truly beautiful speaking
voice. With her theatrical background and that soft,
intimate voice, the result of the experiment was a fore-
gone conclusion. Miss Ives was in radio to stay. The
Ives radio story since then has been a saga of success.
One of her first acts in her role as substitute home
economist — a job that became permanent — was to take
the program out of the kitchen and put it in the living
room. As she explains it, "People need food for their
souls as much as they need food for their stomachs."
She began to read poems on the show and to chat in-
formally about things of interest to women. She soft-
pedalled home economics and placed the accent on social
affairs. In her first year of broadcasting, she formed her
Everywoman's Hour — the first "social club of the air"
in radio, and a program that has proved to be a very
New York newspapers credit her as "one of the few women
who have advanced the art of announcing for their sex."
popular feature with Philadelphia women ever since.
Miss Ives gained national recognition when she was
selected by a manufacturer of soaps and cosmetics to do
all their commercials and to act as beauty consultant on
the firm's radio programs. For seven years she handled
that phase of the sponsor's programs, appearing with
Paul Whiteman, Shep Fields and other stars on coast-to-
coast broadcasts, commuting between New York and
Philadelphia, where she still broadcast her own local
program. New York newspapers immediately recognized
her talent, calling her voice "one of the five best feminine
voices on the air" and crediting her as "one of the few
women who have advanced the art of announcing and
commenting for their sex."
Currently, Miss Ives broadcasts her Everywoman's
Hour on station WFIL, Philadelphia, five afternoons a
week. She is now in her eighth year of broadcasting for
the station. Officer or member of eleven different wom-
en's clubs, she heads her own radio club which numbers
well over 40,000 registered members. Her annual lunch-
eons attract thousands of Philadelphia women.
Busy as she is, Miss Ives still finds time to pursue her
chief avocation — helping underprivileged children. She
has received numerous citations for her work in promot-
ing various endeavors dedicated to helping unfortunate
children in this country and abroad.
the spotlight
is on the
and
tfiotm/.
specially designed gift watches . . . 49.75 up . . .
inspired by the "Bride and Groom" Radio Program
They'll dance at their wedding, and the spotlight will shine brightly
on them! This is their happiest hour — their hour to remember!
To help you honor the wedding couple in your family or
circle of friends, Gruen presents the specially-designed "Bride"
and the "Groom," two handsome gift watches, priced from
$49.75 up. Gruen, America's Choice since 1 874. Official
timepiece of Pan American World Airways. The Gruen Watch
Company, Time Hill, Cincinnati 6, Ohio. In Canada: Toronto, Ont.
For cherished gifts, consult your dealer.
the ^/fteajttm watch
Tune in on the "Bride and Groom" Radio Program
broadcast over the ABC Network — Monday thru Friday.
By
DUKE ELLINGTON
Disc-jockey Ellington of WESX, Salem, Mass.,
KING, Seattle, Wash., and WBNY, Buffalo, N. Y.
Jo Stafford's first N. Y. broadcast in
His plane's fine points are demonstrated to
Tony Lane by licensed pilot Vaughn Monroe.
Buddy Chirk dropped in for a chat when Guy
Loinluirdo opened at N. Y.'s Hotel Roosevelt.
10
WHEN Sarah Vaughan embarks upon her nationwide
concert tour during the Fall, her itinerary will in-
clude a date in Mexico City for which she'll receive
a minimum of $2000 plus a percentage of the total re-
ceipts during her appearance. That, to me, seems to be
as good a reason as I've ever heard for keeping up with
your vocal lessons.
In answer to the many requests from his fans, Rex
Stewart, who used to play quite a bit of trumpet in my
own band, is now playing U. S. Army Service Clubs in
Germany.
Handsome young Gordon MacRae seems destined for
top honors in all fields of the entertainment business.
His first movie for Warner Bros., "The Big Punch," has
received lavish praise from all the critics. And he sings,
too!
Just about this time ten years ago, constant radio
listening would have bombarded your ears with a song
called "Joseph Joseph." Remember?
U01C/
Victor Young, pianist Harry Sukman, singer Gordon MacRae, all of ABC
Texaco Star Theatre, run over some tunes from Young's newest album.
Looking for Ella Mae Morse?
Try Guam, in the South Pacific.
two years — Dick Haymes was her guest.
Sarah Vaughan has a $2000-plus-
percentage date in Mexico City!
When Sammy Kaye was presented with an honorary
membership in Sigma Nu recently, it marked the four-
teenth college fraternity he has joined. In addition
to Theta Chi, to which he belonged at Ohio State Uni-
versity, Sammy is now an honorary member in thirteen
other similar organizations. Who said that being a
bandleader is easy living? Think of all those initiation
ceremonies.
Ella Mae Morse, the songstress famous as the "Cow-
Cow Boogie" gal, is now on Guam in the far reaches of
the South Pacific, where her husband, a Navy medical
officer is on active duty. Needless to say, Ella Mae's
musical career has come to a temporary halt — at least
we hope it's temporary.
graphical errors, especially those in local papers which
he reads while touring. One of his favorites was a
social-events report which ended, "The evening was
spent in an infernal (read informal) way, a television
program being the main diversion."
Bing Crosby's experiment can be credited for this. Der
Bingle proved that recording with Scotch sound record-
ing tape provides the highest fidelity. Now Capitol
Records is going to experiment with it, too, reasoning
that it will allow backlog recordings on tape, eliminating
storage space for masters; the tape can be kept without
danger of injuring recorded matter or its fidelity; it will
cut down on the difficulty of editing and patchwork; and
it will save the loss of throwing away bad recordings,
since tape can be erased and used over again.
There's only one non-musical member of Guy Lom-
bardo's family. It's Joseph, who's an interior decorator.
Practical, too — every year he drags in the green stuff
by doing over- the homes of his brothers, sisters and
parents!
Another Vaughn Monroe hobby is collecting typo-
Barry Wood is giving up all his radio assignments,
except The Barry Wood Show, transcribed series he does
with Margaret Whiting, to join CBS Television as a pro-
ducer-director-performer. His first job is to build a
musical talent series for video. Barry is quite a fellow,
ready to take on all kinds of jobs — master of ceremonies,
baritone, saxophonist, recording artist and even small
town judge.
11
\'A
Richard Hudnut Home Permanent
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MANENT. Right at home... as easily
as you put your hair up in curlers
...you can give yourself this soft,
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same improved cold wave process
used in the Richard Hudnut Fifth
Avenue Salon for expensive perma-
nents. Save money and tedious hours
at the hairdresser. ..try this glorious
home wave today! Price $2.75; refill
without rods, $1.50 (all prices plus
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Saves up to one-half
usual waving time.
One-third more waving
lotion ... more penetrating,
but gentle on hairl
Longer, stronger end-papers
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FACING THE MUSIC
Jl
arri
¥
Ian t man
ABC's Music Librarian
oversees 21,000 discs.
THERE is one man in the ABC net-
work who almost wishes that the
Stop The Music program had never
gotten in front of a microphone. Noth-
ing disrespectful in that thought, mind
you; but keeping track of a library of
over 21,000 records, 200 record labels,
an uncounted number of musical manu-
scripts and two small sons is job
enough for any one. The hundreds of
requests coming in each day for the
names of the various mystery tunes is
getting close to the bone for Harry F.
Wightman, Music Librarian for ABC.
What makes a music librarian? Har-
ry Wightman attended Bucknell Uni-
versity and studied business admin-
istration, but all his extra-curricular
activities centered around music. He
played a trumpet for about eight years
and French horn for four years. After
graduation he got the radio "bug" and
took a job as a page boy at NBC. Seven
months later he was assigned to duties
in the music library. In 1939, Harry
received a call to organize and set up
the library for ABC.
What does a librarian do? The best
answer is to quote Harry:
"Not very long ago in the ABC Music
Library, the phone rang and a distant
female voice asked how many sympho-
nies Haydn had composed. At the same
time there was a man standing at our
counter asking for a honky-tonk back-
ground for a mystery program; an-
other wanted the accompaniment for
an aria, while on the way to a studio
were 3,695 orchestral parts for just one
rehearsal for one single program. There
were music to file, records to catalogue,
a part misplaced, the second page of
the bassoon score torn, returned rec-
ords for filing and the inevitable ques-
tion, 'What's The Mystery Tune?' "
Listening to every record issued by
every company has spoiled Harry
Wightman for many types of songs,
artists and orchestras; but his favorites
are still the classical composers. His
personal record collection consists of
over 500 discs, all either symphonic or
collectors' items in any classification.
But his tastes do not control the tastes
of his two boys. Three-year-old Steve
can sing "I'm Looking Over A Four
Leaf Clover" in perfect tune, while
five-year-old Jimmy is undecided
between Shostakovitch's Fifth or Strav-
insky's Petrouchka.
(collectors (d
orner
BY THELONIOUS MONK
(This month's guest collector, The-
lonious Monk, is certainly the most
controversial personality to have come
upon the musical scene in the last
decade. Credited by most critics as the
man who started the new style of music
known as "be-bop," Thelonious Monk
has been both praised and pilloried as
the "Genius of Bop." No one, however,
has been able to deny that "be-bop" is
making a tremendous contribution to
modern music.)
THESE days any sincere devotee of
jazz can hardly call his record col-
lection well-rounded if he has over-
looked the most recent and radical
form of "modern progressive music"
which has come to be known as "be-
bop."
Not new to musicians, "be-bop" has
taken nine years to get any attention
of the general public. It all seems to
have started back in 1939 when some of
the local musicians were playing with
me at Minton's Playhouse in New York.
We unconsciously created a new form
and style which seems to have influ-
enced every progressive band and
group in the country today. Chiefly
through records, Dizzy Gillespie and
Charlie Parker were instrumental in
bringing this new music to the public.
More recently, even Claude Thornhill's
fine dance band recorded an excellent
version of "Anthropology" for Colum-
bia.
Fine examples of the Gillespie groups
can be heard on his recordings of "I
Can't Get Started," "Groovin' High,"
and "Hot House." Charlie Parker shines
on such platters as "Yardbird Suite,"
"Bird Lore" and "Billie Bounce."
The "be-bop" influence soon spread
to the vocalists, too. Look for record-
ings made by Babs' Three Bips And A
Bop. That vocal group was outstanding
on "Oop-Bop-A-Da" and "Dob-Bla-Bli."
The great Sarah Vaughan went to
"be-bop" for inspiration on "You're Not
The Kind" and "If You Could See Me
Now."
For my own contributions to your
wax collection, there are four sides
that have been issued by Blue Note
records. The tunes are all original and
titled "Thelonious," "Suburban Eyes,"
"'Round About Midnight," and "Well
You Needn't." Listen for the beat in
these four discs. The rhythm section
is the backbone of my group. If the
beat is right, then the horns can't help
but play the music right.
And if any of these records will
further your interest in the new "be-
bop" form, then it won't be long before
they add another "B" to Barrelhouse,
Boogie-Woogie and Blues. Make room
for Be-Bop.
TWIN CITIES -famed and
friendly rivals. Minneapolis^,
and Saint Pauty
I i Hi
"Why live anywhere else?"
-says MINNESOTA!
What space— and what a place! Vacationland is right at
their doorstep, with field and stream, woods and lakes
aplenty. Almost every kind of business is here, too —
surrounded by prosperous farm and dairyland. Oppor-
tunity in every direction! No wonder there are so few
"former Minnesotans" in other states.
Independent, intelligent and able people, neighborly
Minnesotans enjoy— as do so many throughout the U. S.
—the fine flavor of—
Beech-Nut Gum
The flavor favorite
everywhere
in*"*
Beech-Nut
BEECHIES
Candy
Coated Gum
-good too— ,
0
**1
-\;*"S
STATE CAPlTOL-in Saint Paul.seat ;JL
of sound, progressive state government.
R
M
13
Bride and Groom's "three Johns" add up to quite a family — Michael Masterson, 1; producer John Masterson; Chris
Nelson, 2; M.C.John Nelson; Greg Nelson, also 2 (they're twins) ; John Reddy, Jr., 1; writer John Reddy; Suzy Reddy, 5.
Guest Robert Young rehearses for a Studio One broadcast
with producer Fletcher Markle, actress Mercedes McCambridge.
HERE'S news for the young folks. The Borden
Company, through its County Fair program on
CBS and the CBS network, will sponsor 163
teen-age owned and operated County Fair Corpora-
tions under the Junior Achievement youth business
training program.
This program calls for the setting up of County
Fair Junior Achievement Companies in all areas
served by CBS. Each of these companies, made up of
boys and girls between the ages of 15 and 19, is to put
on a fair during the week of October 23-30. Financed
through their own efforts and run as a business, the
companies will compete against each other for val-
uable merchandise awards. The winning company
will get a grand award — the County Fair program
*brought from New York to originate in their own
city. The young people can use the program to
promote a community project, for any local or
national charity, or for any similar purpose.
CBS stations working with Borden Company repre-
sentatives will take the lead in forming these com-
panies. The miniature enterprises are to be organized
in September. Groups will average 15 members,
will sell stock to finance their "business" and do
everything in strict accordance with business prac-
tices. "County Fair Week," October 23-30, is the
period during which the Fairs are to take place.
14
Dan Dailey (left) and Babe Ru.h, appearing on Louella
Parsons' ABC show, offered a masculine viewpoint on makeup.
Hi Jinx at breakfast-time: Jinx Falkenburg interviews
Lucille Ball on the NBC morning Falkenburg-McCrary show.
Recent co-stars on the Screen Guild Players, (CBS) were two
who take their acting seriously: Ida Lupino, Charles Boyer.
Reports from the groups must be received by the
committee of judges by November 13. Judging
begins on November 20 and the winning groups are
to be announced on the County Fair broadcast of
November 27. On December 11, County Fair will be
broadcast from the city which has provided the
winning Junior Achievement group. Get busy, kids.
* * *
NBC has come up with its own competition to the
CBS Studio One stanza. Radio City Playhouse,
under the skillful handling of a newcomer to Amer-
ican radio, Harry W. Junkin, bids fair to keep
Fletcher Markle on his toes, too. NBC started out
with the intention of making this show a real
theater of the air and it looks as though that's what
it will be. The quality of the plays is high and so is
that of the acting. Maybe that's because the policy
behind the show is that anyone can submit plays
and they are brought on merit, not on the basis of
the author's reputation. The same goes for the
actors; they have to be good, not necessarily
glamorous names. If you like your drama honest and
good, listen to NBC, Saturdays at 10 P.M. If you
like what you hear, take the trouble to let the net-
work know about it.
* * *
The buying season (Continued on page 17)
By DALE BANKS
15
HOME TOWN COMPLEX
Jeanne's favorite charity is the Old News Boys' Fund for
the childrens' Hospital of Pittsburgh. Here she attends
a benefit, accompanied by Bernie Armstrong, Bill Hinds.
A
M
16
Pittsburgh and KDKA
spell home to Jeanne Baxter; no offer
is tempting enough to lure her away.
THE gal with the network voice — and a home-
town complex — that's Jeanne Galbraith Baxter,
KDKA's popular song stylist.
Gifted with a resonant, dulcet voice, Jeanne
has been singing since her high school days, and
today she's a radio veteran of fifteen years as a
vocalist at KDKA and other Pittsburgh stations.
She also sang on the NBC and Columbia net-
works. All of which explains why Miss Baxter,
year in and year out, has been one of Pittsburgh
radio's foremost girl singers of popular songs.
Her extensive repertoire of current and old time
favorites not only helps her in her radio work,
but it has created a constant demand for personal
appearances through KDKA's vast listening area.
Jeanne started singing professionally with her
two sisters. Their father is a musician and it
was under his tutelage that the three girls took
to the airways. She became a soloist when her
sisters married and retired from professional life.
Though she is now married too — she's the wife
of Fred Baxter of the W. Earl Bothwell Advertis-
ing Agency and the mother of a son — she has
continued as an active entertainer.
Jeanne has been featured on many KDKA pro-
grams and currently is the feminine star of
Bernie Armstrong's Friday night Duquesne Show.
Though she has sung in New York and has had
many offers to join famed name bands, she pre-
fers to stay in Pittsburgh so that she can be near
her family. She has sung with Phil Spitalny and
his orchestra and made recordings with Bernie
Armstrong, KDKA's musical director.
Since she and her husband moved into their
new home in Pittsburgh's suburban Rolling Hills,
Jeanne has developed a flair for community ac-
tivity and has been closely identified with educa-
tional and civic programs. She has also taken an
active part in the social life of Rolling Hills and
its neighboring communities.
And she has great plans for her son, Chipper,
who at the age of four warbles away in great
style. Some day, she hopes, there'll be another
Baxter among Pittsburgh radio favorites.
COAST to COAST
(Continued from page 15)
Actress Jan Miner is the roman-
tic lead in NBC's Lora Lawton.
for fall radio programs has been very-
late this year. Usually fall shows
are signed, sealed and delivered by
July 15, but this summer many shows
weren't taken off the hook until
way in August. Seems there was
a tussle between economy-minded
agencies and talent which was holding
out for high prices.
* * *
Hey! In the midst of all the talk
about retrenchment a new sponsor has
created a furore by asking a top radio
writer to block out a program idea and
do an audition script on a show with
a weekly budget of $50,000!
* * *
Out of the mouths of babes — Not long
ago, Ralph Edwards had a birthday.
One of the guests at the party asked
six-year-old Christine Edwards who
was her favorite radio star. The Truth
or Consequences m.c.'s daughter an-
swered, "Gene Autry." The question
was reworded, trying to get the child
to name her daddy. Finally, someone
else asked, "What does your daddy do?"
To which Chris replied, "I really don't
know. I think he plays games."
* * *
Talking about games, here's a new
twist on the "giveaway" shows. Over
a local station in New York, WNEW,
Jack Barry, who handles Mutual's
Juvenile Jury and Life Begins at 80
programs, has launched a show called
You Can Lose Your Shirt. On this
show contestants can't win a penny and
can lose a hundred dollars. They pay
an entry fee of $100 and have to answer
four questions correctly to get their
hundred bucks back. The money goes
to charity and should the contestant
answer all questions correctly he gets
his money back and the program's
sponsor dishes out the $100. Barry is
also donating his salary to charity. So
nobody wins.
* * *
If present plans materialize, Stop
the Music will be televised next season.
Other plans in the making include a
syndicated column, a motion picture,
a record album, and a touring road
show, all based on the radio stanza.
Spreading it all over the place, aren't
they?
* * *
Radio's ten- (Continued on page 19)
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18
Spike Jones' latest disc, like
all the others, has a pair of
comical labels.
DANCING OR LISTENING
BUDDY CLARK (Columbia) — Riding higher than ever after teaming with
Doris Day for a hit "Love Somebody," Buddy comes through again with a fine
job on a truly beautiful ballad, "Where the Flamingoes Fly." Mitchell Ayres'
background consists of trumpet, clarinet, flute and strings. The reverse side
is "On The Waterfall."
ALBERT AMMONS (Mercury) — This platter is proof that boogie-woogie
wasn't a fad. Though the eight-to-the-bar craze is not what it used to be,
Albert Amnions' versions of "Bear Den Boogie" and "Tuxedo Boogie" will
give you much pleasure.
GENE KRUPA (Columbia)— Much like the Goodman Trio of old, this is
called the Gene Krupa Jazz Trio. Geney, of the light brown drumsticks, ex-
cels on "Body and Soul" and "Stompin' At The Savoy."
CHUBBY JACKSON (MGM)— To the uninitiated, Chubby plays bass,
wears a beard and is known as the "monster." On this platter, "L'Ana" is
be-bopish in style, while the frivolous bit on the reverse is titled — "The Happy
Monster." Both are fine jazz.
BARCLAY ALLEN (Capitol)— Another Freddy Martin graduate, Mr. Allen
maintains the style he used so successfully when with the Martin band. Backed
by a rhythm section, he plays "It Began In Havana" and "Nola."
TOMMY DORSEY (RCA Victor)— This disc is one of the best TD has made
in quite some time. We prefer "Let Me Call You Sweetheart" with a Stuart
Foster and chorus vocal. You may prefer listening to Gordon Polk sing
"Walk It Off."
RAY BAUDUC (Capitol) — If you are not familiar with the Dixieland or
two-beat school of jazz, then get to hear this one. If you are familiar with the
style, then the best recommendation for this record is the following list of
musicians who made the disc with Ray: Eddie Miller, Nate Kazebier, Matty
Matlock, Brad Gowans, Stan Wrightsman, Nappy Lamare and Morty Corb.
JOHNNY DESMOND (MGM)— A recent addition to this label, Johnny
makes an auspicious debut with "P. S. I Love You" and "I Wonder Where My
Baby Is Tonight." The former, you are right, is the oldie that you remember
way back when .
SPIKE JONES (RCA Victor) — Your favorite disc-jockey has probably worn
out three records playing this one, by this time you've heard it and laughed
with it many a time, but it's almost as much fun buying a Spike Jones record
just to read the label as there is in listening. This label says that "I'm Getting
Sentimental Over You" has a vocal refrain by "The Barefooted Pennsylvanians;
credits: Sir Frederick Gas, Dick Morgan and George Rock." "I Kiss Your
Hand Madame," insists that the vocal is by Paul Judson and the Ben Ghost
Singers.
ALBUM ARTISTRY
AMBROSE HORS D'OEUVRES (London)— Bert Ambrose had to go to
England many years ago before the American public began to realize his tal-
ents. This album contains a collection of eight of the most famous and most
admired Ambrose selections. You'll particularly like the title tune and
"B'Wanga."
ANDRE PREVIN AT THE PIANO (RCA Victor)— The 19-year-old French-
man, who is writing musical scores for Hollywood films, is one of the very
best piano technicians around. This set contains such fine songs as "But Not
For Me," "Mad About The Boy," "Just One Of Those Things," and "Should I."
FACING the MUSIC
COAST to COAST
(Continued from page 17)
year-old Norma Jean Nilson, who plays
"Cookie Bumstead" on the Blondie
program, has been a good luck charm
for the King Brothers, well known
Hollywood independent producers.
She's had a part in every picture
they've made in the past five years.
The King Brothers feel sure that
Norma Jean is their good fairy, be-
cause right from the beginning every
picture she was in has paid off.
* * *
The night before Sammy Kaye's
singer and saxophonist, Chubby Silvers,
left Los Angeles for New York, his
auto license plates were stolen. In a
rush to reach New York, Chubby left
without getting new plates. On his
way across the country, he was stopped
more than 50 times for driving without
plates and only credentials proving he
was an honorary member of the Los
Angeles Police Department saved him
from stiff fines. The payoff lies in the
fact that Chubby had been made a
volunteer L.A. cop only two days be-
fore he left the West Coast.
* * *
Have you noticed how the midwest
seems to be "the lucky area" as far as
radio's biggest prizes are concerned?
It was a Chicago woman who won the
"Walking Man" contest. Now a Cleve-
land, Ohio, youngster named Kenneth
Friedley has won thousands of dollars
in prizes by identifying Cheyenne as
the city which changed its name to
"Lone Ranger Frontier Town" in ob-
servance of the Lone Ranger's fifteenth
and widely-celebrated radio anniver-
sary.
* * *
When Bill Lawrence worked as di-
alogue director for Republic's "The
Plunderers," he used an old radio
technique and recorded all speeches
on tape, which permitted playbacks
for criticism and correction before
filming. Now, other producers are
seriously thinking of taking up this
technique because it cuts production
time and cost.
* * *
Reports indicate that Philip Morris,
contrary to the current trend in radio,
will increase its spending this fall.
And, happy day, they will skip the
giveaway gimmick for straight enter-
tainment.
* * *
Plucky Susan Peters, who made her
movie comeback in a wheelchair, is now
branching out in radio. She's cut an
audition platter for a half hour show
called "Book Store Girl."
If present plans materialize for the
Front Page show, starring Dick Powell,
to be televised, Producer Don Sharpe
will take the show to New York, where
the city room of one of the Manhattan
newspapers will be used as background.
* * *
Shades of the Past! You know there's
been a lot of turning back, recently.
Movie companies are re-releasing a lot
of oldies, magazines and newspapers
here and there are reprinting the
stories of famous writers like O. Henry
and Ring Lardner. Now, radio's at
it. Chandu, which was first heard on
the Pacific Coast back in the days
of crystal (Continued on Page 91)
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19
Whenever you hear good music
on Buffalo's WBEN, you know that the baton
is in the hands of Max Miller, the station's Musical Director.
VERSATILE is the word for maestro Max Miller,
musical director of WBEN, Buffalo. The black-
haired violinist, who really looks like a musician,
is accomplished in the various fields of symphony, con-
cert, radioT night club, and theater music.
He directs the orchestra on the WBEN Bandbox show
five evenings a week. He plays the violin with the trio
on the Early Date at Hengerer's show five mornings a
week. He is concertmaster of the Buffalo Philharmonic
Orchestra. He also has appeared as concert soloist with
the Philharmonic and has directed several of its pop
concerts. Max also features his "gypsy" violin on the
air during the Bandbox program a few evenings a week.
Max was a boy prodigy on the violin and won many
city and state honors while in grade school. At the age
of nine, he began his radio career with his own solo
program on Buffalo stations, and at thirteen he won the
national gold medal awarded by the National Federation
of Music Clubs. A native Buffalonian, he won scholar-
ships to the Eastman School of Music at Rochester and
Curtis Institute at Philadelphia.
While attending East High School, Buffalo, Max was
forced to make a difficult decision. "I always loved
sports almost as well as music," as he tells the story,
"and I had the idea that a musician should protect his
hands. So I decided to go light on sports."
Max's big love was baseball, and although he re-
luctantly gave up the opportunity to pitch for the high
school nine, he did pitch indoor baseball with one of
the outstanding teams in the American Legion-Buffalo
Evening News leagues. He gained the reputation of
being one of the best indoor baseball pitchers in the
Buffalo area.
After leaving high school, Max was featured for ten
years as violin soloist in Shea's Buffalo Theater or-
chestra. He also found time to tour the East as soloist
in recitals and frequently directed orchestras in night
clubs. While at the theater, he also pitched for the
orchestra's indoor baseball team in a musicians' league.
His younger brother, Harry, is the staff pianist in the
Violin prodigy at nine, Max has
mastered many fields of music.
WBEN orchestra and also has appeared as soloist on the
station. Their father, who was born in Russia, was an
expert in native Russian dances and the boys inherited
his great love of rhythm.
Max's most recent serious venture was as conductor
of the Buffalo Philharmonic at one of its summer pop
concerts. He is best-known nationally as the orchestra
director on the recent NBC network program titled,
"Your Host is Buffalo."
Max's wife Sylvia is an accomplished singer, although
she prefers to let the professional spotlight fall on her
talented husband. They have a daughter, Sharon Lynn,
five years old, and a son, Jeffrey David, ten months old.
Max is teaching Sharon the' violin and says she shows
great musical promise.
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THE SECOND ANNUA!
BADIO MIRROR
I AST year at this time, Radio Mirror Magazine inaugurated an entirely new kind
of radio poll — the Radio Mirror Awards — designed to discover the preferences
of the nation's radio listening public.
Frankly, it was an experiment. In proof that it was a successful one, we announce
the Second Annual Radio Mirror Awards, no longer an experiment but an estab-
lished institution, a regular part — and a very important one — of the yearly schedule
of our magazine.
We know now what last year we had only hoped to be the case: that radio listeners
throughout the country are grateful for this, their only opportunity on a nation-
wide basis, to make known their likes and dislikes, interests and tastes, in radio
listening fare.
There is no other institution like the Radio Mirror Awards. Each year there
are many radio polls — polls of radio editors, columnists, critics. But only through
the Radio Mirror Awards may the listeners themselves, who have no interest at
heart but the interest of good listening, have their say. Radio Mirror believes that
the listeners are the most important people in the whole of the very big business
of radio; through the Awards, listeners are invited to voice their opinions — the
opinions which have the best right of all to be heard.
In the coming November issue, the first ballot in the Radio Mirror Awards for
1948 will be printed, on which reader-listeners will be asked to vote for their
favorite radio personalities. In the December issue will appear the second ballot,
offering listeners the opportunity to vote for their favorite radio programs. When
these two sets of ballots have been counted, the resulting tabulation will form
the basis for the Radio Mirror Awards for 1948, to be presented to the top-ranking
performers and programs next Spring.
The November and December issues of Radio Mirror Magazine will be, then, the
most important issues of the year to you, the radio listener who, rather than simply
applauding your favorite programs and criticizing those you don't like, really want
to do something about getting from radio the kind and quality of program you
enjoy. The thing you can do is to cast your votes for your favorites on the ballots
in the next two issues of Radio Mirror. Make your voice heard!
23
HEY all come onto the stage of the CBS playhouse
where we broadcast We, the People every Tuesday
night. The famous and the obscure, the rich and the
poor — prizefighters, shoe -shine boys, actors and ac-
tresses, generals, judges, doctors, panhandlers from city
streets, gamblers, waitresses, opera stars, salesmen,
miners, elevator operators, every sort of person you
can imagine. That's why it is such fun to be this show's
master of ceremonies, as I am. It is one job of which
the old saying is true: "You meet such interesting
people."
But every now and then one face stands out from this
parade of personalities; one story strikes right down to
the bottom of your heart. This is that kind of story —
a story of success and failure, of hope lost and then
found again.
Perhaps you were listening a few weeks ago when
two of the guests on We, the People were a man named
Joe White and his son Bobby. Perhaps you heard what
Joe said on the air. That was part of his story, but it
wasn't all, because Joe is not the sort of man who will-
ingly looks backward to the dark times that have passed.
Joe's eyes are fixed unwaveringly on the future now,
and it would have been physically impossible for him to
re-live, for the listening millions on a nationwide net-
work, the fear and discouragement he lived through a
few years ago. It would have seemed to him like asking
for sympathy, for pity — and Joe never did need those.
On the contrary!
It isn't likely you recognize the name of Joe White
unless you were listening to We, the People, on the night
he was its guest. You might — if you were old enough
to be a radio fan in the nineteen-twenties and nineteen-
thirties — know him better as The Silver-Masked Tenor.
Under that name, Joe was one of the first of radio's
great singers of popular songs. A muscular, handsome
young Irishman, he had a tenor voice of magic sweet-
ness and appeal, and every week that voice was heard
on millions of sets tuned in from Maine to California.
Even then, in those early days of radio, he was a radio
It's legend in the White family that each generation's
fifth child will sing. Both Joe and Bobby were No. 5.
6H161ilD6r
By DWIGHI
Bobby, shown below with Msgr. Fulton Sheen, is a student
at St. Jerome's Parochial School, keeps his averages high.
■■*.*,>
1
1
■ 4fl
1
**
!*
HtJh ■ ~~° "j^vK
Dwiijht Weist is m.c. of We, the People, which it
heard every Tuesday night at 9 EST, on CBS stations.
24
veteran. He'd made his first Broadcast in 1921, into a
"tomato-can" microphone in a Newark studio where a
sheet of plate-glass separated the performers from any
onlookers who might come into the studio for curiosity's
sake. He had become fascinated by this new thing,
radio, and he sang over the New York stations WJZ,
WEAF, and WOR at a time when the networks of
which they were to be the key stations were just be-
ginning to be dreamed about.
The silver mask was an accident. At WEAF, Joe had
just finished a program and was on his way home when
a distracted program director rushed out of another
studio. The star of his show hadn't appeared, and the
program was about to go on the air. He grabbed Joe's
arm and hustled him into the studio. "Sing, Joe, sing!"
were the only instructions he had time to give. But they
were all Joe needed. He sang.
After his number the announcer stepped to the mike.
The producer had neglected to tell him Joe's name, but
he had to say something. He (Continued on page 75)
■~?
WEIS1
Spotlighted by We, the
People: Joe White, whose singing
son may reach the heights
on which, in radio's early days,
the Silver-Masked Tenor dwelt
When Bobby and his father
appeared on We, the People, Dwight
Weist introduced them to
actress Margaret O'Brien, a fellow guest.
«
I
■
25
Garry Moore thought radio was waiting for him. It took him a while to
By HOWARD SHARPE
THE day had been typical of all the days Garry
Moore had spent since he'd decided to take his
Take It Or Leave It show to New York. He had
come in at four in the morning after a long session
at Eddie Condon's Village Dixieland bistro, had a
cold shower and a pot of black coffee, kept three
appointments in the forenoon, one at lunch, two in
the afternoon, and now was preparing to meet a
USO gang for a trip to a veterans' hospital. The
phone rang in his Gotham Hotel suite.
It was the Coast calling. There was only one
person in the radio field, the NBC executive at the
other end said, who could take over the Tom Brene-
man show, Breakfast In Hollywood. Did Garry feel
he wanted to tackle it?
In Radio Mirror last month, Garry himself de-
scribed his nattered — and frightened — reaction.
Tom Breneman, until his death a few months ago,
was one of the most beloved figures in radio, and
one of the most popular. To attempt to step into his
shoes would be a monumental task.
On the plane flying West the next evening Garry
said to Nell, his wife, "Well, why should I step into
Breneman's shoes? He had a personality uniquely
his own, and I think people would resent my trying
to ape him even if I were ham enough to do it. It
certainly wouldn't be fair to Tom and his memory,
and I don't propose to submerge my own character,
which heaven knows is the antithesis of his. I've
got to work it some other way."
"But the Breneman show," Nell pointed out, "fol-
lows a pattern that everyone's used to. All the
ladies show up at the restaurant, you kid them
along, everyone stooges for everyone else, and the
laughs are on the house. All very, very homey.
Will they let you change that?"
With a sudden gleam in his eye Garry asked, "Do
you remember Club Matinee?"
"Could I forget it?" Club Matinee, over the Blue
Network some years ago, was a sustaining show
originated, produced and written by Garry and was
pointed to with considerable pride by the network
as their contribution to the higher sort of humor
and entertainment in the field of radio.
"I am thinking," said Garry, "that very gradually
— but not too gradually — the mood of Breakfast In
Hollywood might change its personality to match
the personality of its new m.c. And that a kind of
merger of the Breneman idea and the Club Matinee
idea might not be a bad thing. . . ."
Garry Moore has been thinking a little too hard
and too fast for the good of his blood pressure since
he was a kid in Baltimore and decided that man
was now ready to listen to the radio. During his
last year in high school his busy, fertile mind con-
ceived the idea of giving listeners a little delicious
horror over the airlanes every evening, and a local
station took him on. By the time he was nineteen
he figured he was ready for New York and the
big time.
So he went to the metropolis and, no piker he,
auditioned for the guest spot on the Fred Allen
show. They said, "We'll call you when we need
you." He thought they meant it. For three days he
did not leave his hotel room (on a shaft) at the
Shelton. Then he called the station and asked what
the delay was all about.
"Look, Buster," they began — and gave him the
facts of life.
After he had called Baltimore long distance, and
ascertained that — with a few reservations — the sta-
tion would take him back, Garry lay in his bed
at the hotel and tried to sleep. Sleep evaded him.
The picture of the next day's auditions was in his
mind, and since it was a brash young nineteen-
year-old mind it refused to give up.
Two and a half hours later he leaped out of bed.
He dressed in three minutes flat and went charging
out of the hotel. On Third Avenue, under the L,
he pried up a manhole cover and took it back to
his room, thoughtless of the taxis, dogs and chil-
dren who might stumble into the uncovered sewer;
thereafter, until four in the morning and from eight
until noon, he was very busy collecting things.
At 2:30 P.M., unabashed as only youth can be in
such circumstances, he arrived at the audition bear-
ing a step-ladder, a sledge hammer, a coil of rope,
the manhole cover and (Continued on page 78)
Garry Moore is m.c. of the Breakfast in Hollywood program (ABC, Mon.-Fri., 11 A.M. EST) and of Take It or Leave It (NBC, Sun., 10 P.M. EST).
26
learn the facts — and by then it was!
Biggest thrill of all was being
asked to take Tom
Breneman's place. It was the
biggest problem, too.
Garry solved it, as always, by
instinct plus intelligence.
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16-year-old Andrew wa6 in on
the plans, but kept them all
secret from his mother — "so
she'd have a perfect surprise."
It Happened 0
n
BY MARJORIE
MINE, ALL MINE! A brand new Ford V-8
deluxe sedan . . . except that, six hours
after winning the handsome car via CBS's
Hint Hunt jingle contest, I sold it and ear-
marked the proceeds for medical treatment so
that one day, God willing, I may no longer need
this wheel-chair.
Despite the shadow cast over our household
by my affliction, which struck without warning
in 1936, we who occupy this Washington, D. C.
apartment usually manage to keep in fairly
good spirits. More often than not there's
hearty laughter resounding through these four
rooms . . . laughter sparked by the naturally
buoyant humor of my husky 16-year-old son,
Andrew.
However, a new high in happy atmosphere
and excitement was reached on the lucky day,
not many weeks ago. I'm really thankful that
a weak heart isn't part of my ailment, for that
momentous Monday was keynoted by suspense.
Actually, the suspense set in three days
earlier, on Friday, when my mother, Mrs.
Eunice Crittenden, was away working at her
Hint Hunt is hear* off the CBS network,
Seconds after her name -was announced as a Hint Hunt winner Mrs. Copperthite
found that the program had moved into her living room, with WTOP's Glenn
Taylor, sponsor's representative John Meyer — and photographers by the dozen.
Engineer Roy Bechtol, "WTOP producer Larry Becker-
man, announcer Glenn Taylor, plus equipment, waited
for cue in the basement of Mrs. Copperthite's building.
Hint Hunt
COPPERTHITE
office in downtown Washington. Andrew was
attending school and only my great- aunt, Mrs.
Josephine Whitcraft, who is the fourth member
of our household, was at home with me. I had
not yet risen ... in fact, rarely do I leave my
specially- rigged invalid's bed until about noon-
time. The door buzzer sounded and Aunt
Josephine answered it. I heard muffled voices
in the living room. Presently Aunt Josephine
came in, her lovable, normally calm features
wrinkled in an expression of puzzlement.
"Marjorie," she whispered, "there's a Mr.
John Meyer out there. Says he's the Washing-
ton representative of Armour and Company."
For a moment my expression must have
appeared quite as puzzled as Aunty's . . . then
I remembered the jingles I'd submitted to Hint
Hunt not three weeks previous. With lively
visions of a cash prize — maybe even the fifty -
dollar one — being ceremoniously handed to me,
I tidied up in record time and, helped by Aunt
Josephine, switched from bed to wheel-chair.
My caller was a genial gentleman; portly,
dignified — and cryptic! After a few preliminary
Monday through Friday afternoons at 4 EST.
questions aimed at verifying that I was really
the Marjorie Copperthite who submitted the
jingles, Mr. Meyer smiled and said, "I don't
want to get you all up in the air, Mrs. Copper-
thite, but I have an idea you've won a prize."
As to how much of a prize, the emissary from
Hint Hunt would drop nary a hint. After he'd
left us, Aunt Josephine fairly babbled over all
the possibilities. This was no mere five or ten
dollar prize, I argued. This time, I'd hit the
jackpot with fifty dollars . . . else why would
they send a personal representative?
In the midst of our conjectures, another de-
velopment unfolded. I received a post-card in
the morning's mail. It came from an old friend
who proudly wrote that she had won a fifty-
dollar prize from Hint Hunt. Spurred by
curiosity, I picked up the telephone and called
the lucky gal. When I inquired whether she.
too, had received a personal visit from the spon-
sors of that program, she replied, "Gosh, no. The
check for fifty came by mail."
I wondered: why this special treatment? Why
didn't they just mail (Continued on page 73)
29
n
, one UM^yvjettaUt day- *&*
' 6en,
■uat 9^ tiat Ae*t€Hc* twuted out U ic
ten «*« CcacHf -uhhh in TVa&HQto*- &• &
old Andrew wo. in ....
ttii' plant, but kept them all
I from hia mother— "to
ie'rl have a perfect MirpriBC*
Second, after her name wa> announrcd „ a Hint Hum winner Mr*. Copperthit
found that the program had moved into her living room. will. WTOl-. Glen
Taylor. sp„„s„r-s representative John Meyer- and pholo.raphcr. by the dor,-,
Engineer Roy Berhlol. V7T0F producer UrrN Becker-
man, announcer Glenn Taylor, plus equipment, waited
for cue in the basement of Mrs. Coppetlhilo'i building.
It Happened 0
n
BY MAEJORIE
MINE, ALL MINE! A brand new Ford V-8
deluxe sedan, . . . except that, six hours
after winning the handsome car via CBS's
Hint Hunt jingle contest, I sold it and ear-
marked the proceeds for medical treatment so
that one day, God willing, I may no longer need
this wheel-chair.
Despite the shadow cast over our household
by my affliction, which struck without warning
in 1936, we who occupy this Washington, D. C.
apartment usually manage to keep in fairly
good spirits. More often than not there's
hearty laughter resounding through these four
rooms . . . laughter sparked by the naturally
buoyant humor of my husky 16-year-old son,
Andrew.
However, a new high in happy atmosphere
and excitement was reached on the lucky day,
not many weeks ago. I'm really thankful that
a weak heart isn't part of my ailment, for that
momentous Monday was keynoted by suspense.
Actually, the suspense set in three days
earlier, on Friday, when my mother, Mrs.
Eunice Crittenden, was away working at her
Hint Hunt in- h«.rd oir the C&S M»
Hint Hunt
COPPERTHITE
office in downtown Washington. Andrew was
attending school and only my great-aunt, Mrs.
Josephine Whitcraft, who is the fourth member
of our household, was at home with me. I had
not yet risen ... in fact, rarely do I leave my
specially-rigged invalid's bed until about noon-
time. The door buzzer sounded and Aunt
Josephine answered it. I heard muffled voices
in the living room. Presently Aunt Josephine
came in, her lovable, normally calm features
wrinkled in an expression of puzzlement.
"Marjorie," she whispered, "there's a Mr.
John Meyer out there. Says he's the Washing-
ton representative of Armour and Company."
For a moment my expression must have
appeared quite as puzzled as Aunty's . . . then
I remembered the jingles I'd submitted to Hint
Hunt not three weeks previous. With lively
visions of a cash prize — maybe even the fifty-
dollar one — being ceremoniously handed to me,
I tidied up in record time and, helped by Aunt
Josephine, switched from bed to wheel-chair.
My caller was a genial gentleman; portly,
dignified — and cryptic! After a few preliminary
V|°"<J«v Aroutf, Fr.rJ.y .|,erfloon, .« 4 EST.
questions aimed at verifying that I was really
the Marjorie Copperthite who submitted tin-
jingles, Mr. Meyer smiled and said, "I don't
want to get you all up in the air, Mrs. Copper-
thite, but I have an idea you've won a prize "
As to how much of a prize, the emissary from
Hint HUnt would drop nary a hint. After he'd
left us, Aunt Josephine fairly babbled over all
the possibilities. This was no mere five or ten
dollar prize, I argued. This time, I'd hit the
jackpot with fifty dollars . . . else why would
they send a personal representative?
In the midst of our conjectures, another de-
velopment unfolded. I received a post-card in
the morning's mail. It came from an old friend
who proudly wrote that she had won a fifty-
dollar prize from Hint Hunt. Spurred by
curiosity, I picked up the telephone ana called
the lucky gai. When I inquired whether she,
too, had received a personal visit from the spon-
sors of that program, she replied, "Gosh, no. The
check for fifty came by mail."
I wondered: why this special treatment? Why
didn't they just mail (Continued on page 7.1)
Like most New Yorkers, Irene conies
from somewhere else. But she has made
herself a home among the skyscrapers
By LLEWELLYN MILLER
Irene came to New York to sing southern songs, but she
got a program idea, called it Grand Slam . . . and it was.
"TIHIS IS ridiculous!" said Irene Beasley. "Spring
I fever in the spring is only to be expected. But
spring fever in August — in October — in Jan-
uary— what is wrong with me?"
Something was very wrong. There was no
denying that. Not with her career. It had been a
happy succession of engagements ever since Victor
had brought her to New York to make recordings
of southern songs. She had plenty of friends, lots
of beaux and a pretty apartment that looked north
over the dramatic towers of Manhattan from the
smart midtown east side.
"Aren't you lucky to have a lease on this perfect
place!" her friends said enviously.
"Yes . . ." Irene answered without conviction
30
fi n
T II
IS K A S II Y
Coffee for three — Irene pours for Dwight Weist, who's part of Grand Slam, and Mrs. Weist — in the living
room, where deep green walls make a perfect frame for the small, qniet conversational parties Irene likes to give.
At first Irene couldn't find a place in the sun — her
apartment faced north. But a quick change gave
her southern exposure, and with Anna (opposite page)
in charge, the place is a haven of comfort
for Irene and her apartment-mate Janis Andre.
because every time she went home to that su-
premely desirable apartment she found herself in
the grip of an impulse to get away from it as
quickly as she could. And she found herself enter-
taining the wildly impractical thought, "If I could
only turn this building around . . ."
This emotional problem was solved, not by visits
to a psychiatrist, but by the simpler expedient of
moving to the south side of the building where
floods of sunlight poured in all day long.
Sunlight and air are a passion with the girl who
has made a star of herself under show business's
synthetic suns. She is completely happy at work
in the spotlights of night clubs, of vaudeville and
musical comedy, and in the brilliant flood of
k
>
P4
On free days, Irene heads for Long Island, and water.
If she and Janis Andre (below) have family finances
to check, they do it over lunch at the beach club.
\^^<?#cgs otto' ^£riu~
indirect light that bathes her radio theater. But,
once away from her professional enterprises, she
seeks sun and air — at home, in her car, or at the
beach club that is home away from home for her
during summer weekends.
Janis Andre, the dancer and radio actress, shares
the apartment in town and is responsible for its
decoration. She also is from the south, and the
families were friends though the girls did not know
each other well until both were booked on the same
vaudeville tour. They joined forces when they
returned to New York.
"We wanted two bedrooms when I moved, but
there was not a chance with the way the housing
situation is in New York. I was lucky to be able
to switch to the sunny side," says Irene. "So Janis
concentrated on giving the rooms we had the feeling
of space."
Wedgewood green — a deep quiet shade — on living
room and foyer walls makes the heart of the house
a cool, airy cave high above the hot town in the
summer, and a spacious, sun-splashed retreat in the
winter.
The kitchen, domain of Anna who has ruled it for
the last four years, is cheerful white — no competition
from color there to the perfect beige of the crust
of her famous biscuits, the pale gold of her southern
chicken, the rich brown of her incomparable Swiss
Steak. (Anna's Swiss Steak recipe is on page 87 )
Sprigged wallpaper in the bedroom, four-poster
beds, ruffled curtains and a hand-knitted counter-
pane worthy of a museum are a contrast to the more
formal living room and add to the effect of easy,
comfortable space. A closet-lined corridor, an alcove
with a desk that doubles as office and sideboard, and
a formal little foyer complete the background for
the two actresses and for a colony of canaries num-
bering four at the last census.
"Bease," as her friends call her, is quite the last
person .in all of radio who might be expected to
keep canaries. Somehow bird-watching does not
go with the tall, chic, vivid, vivacious beauty whose
executive abilities have made her producer, direc-
tor, star and master of ceremonies of her own
program.
Bease is the first to admit that she was vastly
taken aback two Christmases ago when the doorbell
rang and one small perfect yellow bird was delivered
in a minute golden cage. Her program, Grand Slam,
was barely three months old, and she was working
ten, twelve, fourteen hours a day to get it under
control. In addition there was the usual stream of
friends who wanted to give parties to celebrate her
success, beaux who wanted to share theater tickets.
Every spare moment was beleaguered by a dozen
demands on her attention.
"This is all I need — a bird to take care of!" she
thought, depositing Pete's cage on the sunny
window-sill without any out-pouring of affection
whatever.
He was automatically named "Pete" because all
of her pets when she was a child shared that name,
but before she quite knew how it happened he had
won for himself the name of "Petie," was sporting
Irene Beasley and Grand Slam are heard
IRENE BEAti LEY
around in a new and far more commodious cage,
and was getting fresh water in the morning before
Irene had her own coffee.
Today she speaks of him in the unabashed lan-
guage of love.
"Watching Petie and his gang has been my salva-
tion a hundred times when I was too tired to speak,"
she says. "So much goes on, and on such a high
emotional level!"
The first thing that went on was that Petie moulted
and lost his song. Irene rushed delicacies to him
which he ate in morose silence. He grew sleek and
quite stout, but music was no longer in him.
"He is lonesome," decided Irene, and she found
him an enchanting little bride of just the right color
for $2.98. "Females are inexpensive — when it comes
to birds," she explains.
Patsy fell wildly in love with Petie at first sight,
but Petie hated her from the start. While Patsy
occupied herself with building a nest as a delicate
hint that she was willing, Petie ruffled his feathers
and endured her blandishments in stony silence.
"Little Patsy and her nest were too pathetic," says
Irene. "There was nothing for me, who hadn't
wanted any canaries in the first place, but to go
back to the pet shop and get her a husband — name
of Schmoe. Pretty soon Patsy had four eggs and
was wearing the settled look of the happily married.
And when the babies hatched, Petie burst into song!
He instantly became the indulgent uncle, and could
not do enough for them. We kept one — Trilby — and
Petie leads him in song the minute Anna turns on
my show. I do not flatter myself that it is my voice
he likes. It is just the music. But he does not sing
all the way through any other show!"
If you were to visit Irene at about 7:30 A.M.
(which would be very unwise of you — "Woe betide
anyone who calls me before I have my coffee," she
says)— -you would find her sitting in the sun on the
combination steps and stool in her kitchen sipping
coffee and knocking down the challenges of the day
like so many tenpins in her mind.
"That is the time I get my clearest thinking done,"
she says. "Things that worried me the night before
seem to have found their answers during the night,
and I am all set by the time I start for the studio."
If the weather is good, she strolls the few blocks
across town to the shining plate glass and chromium
entrance to CBS where the staff is ready for full
rehearsal of songs and features of the show that is
to go on at 11:30 EST.
The theater fills to capacity half an hour before
she goes on the air, and this warm-up period is a
show in itself- After a fight lunch, Irene goes back
to the office to crowd the full day's work, usually
done by a producer, into the afternoon. She finishes
about seven. By that time she is happily tired and
likes best of all to go home to Anna's cooking.
Frequently there are guests but rarely more than
three. She hates big parties. When she dines out
she likes the quieter cafes where fine food and low
music are the rule.
Her hours of work and those of Janis Andre do
not coincide, but they make (Continued on page 85)
Monday through Fridty at 11 :30 A. M. EST, on CBS.
Petie began it; after him came all the other canaries
who now share the Beasley-Andre quarters. Below, a
script sneaks into a holiday; but that's life in radio.
• •
NINE O'CLOCK
ALAN LADD
•ft Dan Holiday
AND ALLS WRONG
2.' Here is the shop — dark, crowded, somehow sinister for
the clocks that fill it are all very old. And presently Dan
cocks an ear and hears . . . only silence. All of the clocks
are set at nine o'clock, and all of them have stopped!
How in the world is he to decide which of the
clocks
1. To Dan Holiday, writer— and adventurer— comes a
letter strangely worded. Secretary Suzy listens as he
reads aloud directions to go to a certain antique shop and
pick up a particular clock: one that has stopped at nine!
Bat adventure is Dan's business; he gets his hat and goes.
ADVENTURE wanted. Will go
any place, do anything. Write
to Box 13" This ad runs
regularly in the classified section
of the Star-Times, and brings to
the desk of writer Dan Holiday
exactly what he is looking for —
adventure. Intelligent, capable
and curious, Dan's excursions into
other people's troubles have
many times brought him close to
danger; but he knows how to
take care of himself. If, occasion-
ally, he finds himself slightly in-
volved with the police — well,
Dan's always on the right side of
that situation, as Lieutenant
Kling well knows!
Box 13. starring Alan Ladd as Oan Holi-
day, is heard Wednesday nights at 9:30
on WOR, and on local stations from coast
to coast. Sylvia Picker plays Su2jy.
3. With nobody around to answer his questions, Dan
characteristically decides to investigate. Cautiously— for
Dan is too experienced not to realize that he has been
lured into a threatening situation — he begins to explore
the dusty stockrooms at the back of the mysterious shop.
35
_
BOX 13...
4. Suddenly he stumbles, and draws back. At his
feet is the crumpled-op body of an elderly man,
from whose hand Dan gently takes a scrap of paper.
Pondering the paper's message — "nine o'clock" —
Dan is off guard long enough for a heavy
antique candlestick to dp its crushing work.
5. When Dan revives, he faces a stranger who in-
troduces himself as the owner of the shop. "But I
thought he was the owner," Dan says. "Who?" asks
the man, • and Dan turns to find that the
body has vanished. He is suspicious of the
stranger, but cannot be sure the man is an imposter.
7. With the "owner," Dan re-investigales the shop,
only to find that now all the clocks are running — and
all show different times. None of them shows nine
o'clock. However, on one of the dusty counters Dan
finds a round, clean spot. Something that stood there
has been recently removed. Perhaps . . . the clock?
8. Dan raises his eyes from his discovery — and finds
himself facing the "owner's" gun. But a quick ma-
neuver changes the picture, puts the gun in Dan's
hand with the cowering impostor at his mercy. Now
Dan knows the missing clock must be valuable, for
by giving up his search the man might have escaped.
36
NINE O'CLOCK AND ALL'S WRONG
6. Still, Dan decides, no bona fide dealer in valuable curios would leave his shop untended and unlocked.
Picking up an enameled vase, he remarks "This is a handsome piece; 16th-century Florentine, isn't it?"
"Why, yes," says the stranger. Then Dan turns it in his hand and says coolly, "Maybe not, though. It looks
more like 18th-century French." Confused, the stranger turns away from the accusing look in Dan's eyes.
9. Dan deduces, from the fact that the bogus owner
remained on the premises after murdering the real
owner and striking Dan, that the clock must still be
there too. After strenuous search, he finds it . . . and
finds, too, a fortune of jewels hidden inside it. That's
why it had been worth murder to the fake owner!
10. To a bewildered Suzy, Dan explains: two people
knew of the fortune in the clock: his client, and
the bogus "owner." Dan arrived too late to
prevent the murder of the real owner, too
soon to allow the fake owner to get away
with the jewels. Now, the criminals have lost out.
37
T
*
*
To let the neighbors know
how the yonngest Lynch boy —
that's Christopher — is getting on
*
'I
I! NEVER kissed the Blarney Stone, but I think
I'm the luckiest Irishman I know. I'm the
"Minstrel Boy" on your fine American pro-
gram the Voice of Firestone Hour and on (Co-
lumbia Concerts — and I've just bought a house
in America for my family and me — and after
two short years in your country, I'm beginning
to feel quite a bit American!
Not that you'd ever guess it if you listened
outside our house ■ at Valley Stream, Long
Island, near New York City. Of course thef
house looks American: it's of stone and woodj
two stories high and with a deeply eaved roof.|
But the sounds coming out of it are pure Irish
. . . since I practice five hours every day, at
almost any time you could hear me roaring out
my two favorite tunes, "Down by the Glenside,"
or "All in an April Evening." If you saw me
through the windows you might get quite a
shock — for I'm afraid I don't look like the classic
Irish tenor of tradition at all.
No, I stand in the music room behind my
accompanist, facing the great picture I have of
Ireland's fine singer John McCormack — whose
protege, I am proud to say, I am. But you'd
probably be quite dejected once you shifted
your attention from Mr. McCormack's fine face
to me. For I usually practice with my collar
off — I wear detachable ones — and I gesture with
a coke bottle which I drink from in between
bars. Or else I wave the core of an apple I just
finished eating. As a matter of fact, a piece of
apple is usually tucked in my cheek while I
sing!
However, if this picture of a tenor is sadden-
ing, a peek into the living room next door to
the music room would cheer you up no end..
For there are the three lights of my life: my
lovely Irish wife Dympna, my handsome laddie
Brian, and my tiny lass Marese — together with
the Irish nurse Miss Fitzgerald, who is still so
befuddled by America that she won't take a
day off. (Whenever she does, she gets lost!)
Yes, it's a nice family scene, and in a nice
setting. We bought the furniture with the house,
but our own mementoes are around to make it
Irish — the crucifix that has been in my wife's
Hear Christopher Lynch on the Voice
of Firestone, Monday nights at 8:30
EST, on stations of the NBC network.
family for years, and the firearms and pictures
of horses that I brought with me from Ireland.
You'd think, looking at all this, that we'd ad-
justed ourselves well to America. And so we
have. But less than two years ago, when we
arrived, things were far different!
I'll never forget my first Christmas in your
enormous country. That was Christmas almost
two years ago, and Dympna and I had only
arrived three months earlier. We were then
staying in a New York hotel, so when Christ-
mas time came I forced myself to go out and
be buffeted around in the pack of people on
Fifth Avenue. But only for a couple of hours.
I couldn't get near a counter for the crowds,
and the more stores I went into the further
away I was from buying my wife's Christmas
present. So I finally thought, "Ah! The corner
drug store near our hotel! American drug
stores have everything one would want, any-
way!"
All invigorated by (Continued on page 88)
Valley Stream is his home, American radio his
outlet, but Christopher is still an Irish singer.
39
V
Red Barber, 1., anil Connie Desmond
—together, Mr. Dodger to fans.
Tmmt
Tired of baseball? Not the
Barber and Desmond families! It's
as much a part, as important
a part, of their lives as eating
Sarah Barber practices with Mother, but
her thoughts are definitely elsewhere.
WHENEVER and wherever there's a Brooklyn
Dodgers' baseball game, Red Barber and Connie
Desmond are on hand to bring radio listening
fans at home a play-by-play description. And when-
ever and wherever there's Red and Connie, the Bar-
ber and Desmond wives and children are on hand,
too — no baseball widows and orphans they!
During the season the Desmonds and the Barbers
eat, breathe and live baseball, and when there's no
game to give them a common interest, a warm
friendship serves just as well. The women are
friends of long standing — they shop together, are
frequent visitors at each other's homes, act as un-
official godmothers to each other's children — which
often means unexpected presents for Kathy and Jim
Desmond and Sarah Barber. The children have as
active an interest in baseball as their parents. That
picture of Sarah Barber practicing piano, for in-
stance: it's deceptive. She's probably wondering
how soon she can get away and resume baseball
practice with the neighborhood boys!
Of course, the Barbers and the Desmonds are all
interested in other sports as well, just as the heads
of the families are — especially the Barbers, for Red
is year-around Director of Sports for CBS.
u
Mother's reading is fine with the young
Desmonds — when there's no baseball!
\i&
A fortifying pie-game
Will it go foul? Baseball's serious,
if your name is Desmond or Barber!
The day's big thrill — autographs all
around from Dodger star Hermanski.
41
T
tykwiewt
Tired of baseball? Not the
Barber and Desmond families! It's
as much a part, as important
a part, of their lives as eating
Sarah Barber practices with Mother, but
her thoughts are definitely elsewhere.
WHENEVER and wherever there's a Brooklyn
Dodgers' baseball game, Red Barber and Connie
Desmond are on hand to bring radio listening
fans at home a play-by-play description. And when-
ever and wherever there's Red and Connie, the Bar-
ber and Desmond wives and children are on hand,
too — no baseball widows and orphans they!
During the season the Desmonds and the Barbers
eat, breathe and live baseball, and when there's no
game to give them a common interest, a warm
friendship serves just as well. The women are
friends of long standing — they shop together, are
frequent visitors at each other's homes, act as. un-
official godmothers to each other's children — which
often means unexpected presents for Kathy and Jim
Desmond and Sarah Barber. The children have as
active an interest in baseball as their parents. That
picture of Sarah Barber practicing piano, for in-
stance: it's deceptive. She's probably wondering
how soon she can get away and resume baseball
practice with the neighborhood boys!
Of course, the Barbers and the Desmonds are all
interested in other sports as well, just as the heads
of the families are — especially the Barbers, for Red
is year-around Director of Sports for CBS.
Mother's reading is fine with the young
Desmonds — when there's no baseball !
A fortifying P»P*
mack at the Press Club
Will it go foul? Baseball'* serious,
if your name is Desmond or Barber!
The day's big thrill — autographs all
around from Dodger star Hermaniiki.
*^ftl
Radio Mirror's Best Poem of the Month
MY WISH FOR YOU
The best I wish for you is not the wealth
That men may store against a rainy day;
Time is a thief most cunning in his stealth
Who will but doom your riches to decay.
I would not wish for you the proudest name
That man can cry aloud, to curse or bless.
Nor would I wish you any meed of fame
Lest fame departing leave you loneliness.
This is my deepest wish — that you may know
The warm, true comradeship that satisfies
The seeking heart and sets the mind aglow —
A bright communion, eloquent and wise.
The best I wish you is a steadfast friend
To wdlk beside you till the journey's end.
— Sydney King Russell
*ii^l I
SHH '. . . HH . . .
She looks beneath her bed before retiring,
Draws all the shades and closes tight the
house.
Makes certain the shotgun is cocked for
firing
And sets a trap for some intruding mouse'.
Then, turning out all lights, and. snuffing
. candles,
(Her breath held in as if afraid to sneeze,)
She walks to a dark room on padded sandals
And listens to the program: "Quiet
Please . . ."
— Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
RADIO MIRROR WILL PAY
for the best original poem sent in each month by a
reader. Five dollars will be paid for each other
original poem used on the Between the Bookends
pages in Radio Mirror. Limit poems to 30 lines, and
address to Ted Malone, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42,
N. Y. 17, N. Y. When postage is enclosed, every
effort will be made to return unused manuscripts.
This is not a contest, but an offer to purchase poetry
for Radio Mirror's Bookends pages.
TO W,
Oh, long ago I put your love away
At though it were a jewel, lost to sight
Deep in a hidden corner of my heart,
And yet the memory is warm and bright.
All through the long green days of Spring
It lies in wraithlike mist . . . obscure ...
remote . . .
But when October flames, I lift it out
And wear its scarlet splendor at my throat.
—Jean Walter
Verses for October, to catch the last brilliant
■
*■■
<• "t
'•- " '
. tt*t/
* '• J
IN BOLD RELIEF
Sundays, from ether days, are different,
They seem ta stand out en the calendar; ■
Brighter than week-days, and more slowly
spent,
As things of value usually are.
At first this was the day when I could wear
My "best dress," and could go to Sunday
school.
And later it was welcomed, foul or fair,
As holiday, freed from scholastic rule.
Then that first row of numbers seemed to
shout
"This is the day he comes to see me!" . . .
Now—
There is no reason why they should stand
out
From any hum-drum week-day, yet some-
how
Because of other days and moons and
stars-
All Sundays shine a bit on calendars.
— Isla Paschal Richardson
I HAD FORGOTTEN
d forgotten it could be like this;
poet's rhyme . . . soft spoken
words that sing
Of silken rhapsodies ... a breath-
less kiss . . .
A night that lingers with remember-
ing.
I had forgotten that my heart could
beat
Like dark men's drums beneath a
restless moon,
And then you came and breathed a
dream complete
With stars and laughter drugged
with madness. Soon
Again I shall know music rich
beyond
The hour . . . and peace, like rain,
typing welcome
Upon my roof. A clear but. vagabond
Perfection shimmers and the pendu-
lum
Of love becomes the cycle of a sigh.
I said I had forgotten — but had I?
— Ruby Diehr
WBmBBSSSBmmS^tBBSmSSm
FARM WIFE
There are so many things that I'd be saying
If you could hear my heart 'way out of doors;
I think of how I love you, while you're haying,
Or plowing fields, or doing evening chores.
And after choretime, when you come in weary,
I think of tender things I'd like to say,
But I just say, "The fire feels mighty cheery."
Or, "My! it's been just like a summer's day."
My heart knows all the love words poets treasure
But I can't seem to say them, though I try,
So when I love you more than I can measure,
I scrub the floor, or bake an apple pie..
— Marylu Terral Jeans
SHOCK
In all of life's emergencies
One shock I label GOOD
The time the local plumber came
The 'day he said he would.
—Helena K. Beacham
AUTUMN NIGHT
In whirring flight
A frightened quail
Shatters the stillness
Along the trail.
The weeds grow high
Where our path once led;
The orchard is barren —
The grass is dead . . .
But my thoughts of you
Are living things, —
Shining moths
With eternal wings.
Blazing a pathway
Of clean, white light
Through the shadowed hours
Of an autumn night.
— Rowena Che:
flaring of color before the world turns white
4
nun
APOLOGY IN AUTUMN
Forgive my heart for so much golden
weather,
For moon-mist and a' river full of
stars ;
For small leaf-secrets and a red-
wing's feather;
A gypsy camp and fiddles and
guitars.
Forgive my heart for so much Indian
summer,
' For fields moon-eyed with pumpkins
and with squashes;
For listening to the weather's tree-
top drummer
While walking you in rain without
galoshes.
Forgive my heart for so much
autumn hunger —
(I love you but I love the season
too) ;
For feeling gayer, giddier and
younger
Than I have any right or reason to.
Forgive me and I promise to be
sober
And sane and sweet again — after
October.
— Cosette Middleton
Be sure to listen to Ted
Malone's program Monday
through Friday mornings at
11:45 EST on ABC stations.
.^m
~ML'
» •»■
HM
KADIO MIRROR WILL PAY $50
for the best original poem sent in each month by a
reader. Five dollars will be paid for each other
original poem used on the Between the Bookends
pages in Radio Mirror. Limit poems to 30 lines, and
address to Ted Malone, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42,
N. Y. 17, N. Y. When postage is enclosed, every
effort will be made to return unused manuscripts.
This is not a contest, but an offer to purchase poetry
for Radio Mirror's Bookends pages.
Radio Mirror'* Sett Poem of the Month
MY WISH FOR YOU
The best I wish lor you is not the wealth
That men may store against a rainy day;
Time Is a thief most cunning in his stealth
Who will but doom your riches to decay
I would not wish for you the proudest name
That man can cry aloud, to curse or bless
Nor would I wish you any meed of fame '
Lest tamo departing leave you loneliness
This is my deepest wish— that you may ]tnow
The warm, true comradeship that satisfies
^ The seeking heart and sets the mind aglow
A bright communion, eloquent and wise. "~*
The best I wish you is a steadfast friend
To walk beside you till the journeys end
—Sydney King Russell
SHH . . . HH . . .
She looks beneath her bed before retiring
Draws all the shades and closes tight the
house.
Makes certain the shotgun is cocked for
firing
And sets a trap for some intruding mouse'.
Then, turning out all lights, and
candles,
{Her breath held in as if afraid to sneezej
She walks to a dark room on padded sandals
And listens to the program: "Qui i
—Rosa Zagnoni Marinoni
TO W.
Oh, long "go I put your love away
At though It were a jewel, lest to sight
Deep In a hidden corner of my heart.
And yet the memory It warm and bright.
Alt through the long green days of Spring
II lies in wrorthllke mist . , . obscure , . .
But when October flames, I lift It out
And wear Its scarlet splendor at my throat.
—Jean Walter
Verses for October, to catch the last brilliant
A
IN BOLD RELIEF
Sundays, from other days, are different.
They seem to stand out on the calendar;
Brighter than week-days, and more slowly
spent.
As things of value usually are.
At first this was the day when I could wear
My "best dress," and could go to Sunday
school.
And later it wot welcomed, foul or fair.
As holiday, freed from scholastic rule.
Then thai first row of numbers seemed to
shout
"This Is the day ha comes to see me!" . . .
Now —
There Is no reason why they should stand
out
From any hum-drum week-day, yet some-
how
Because of olher days and moons and
stars-
All Sundays shine a bit on calendars.
— Isla Paschal Richardson
I HAD FORGOTTEN
I had forgotten it could be like this;
A poet's rhyme . . . soft spoken
words that sing
Of silken rhapsodies ... a breath-
less kiss . . .
A night that lingers with remember-
ing.
I had forgotten that my heart could
beat
Like dark men's drums beneath a
restless moon,
And then you came and breathed a
dream complete
With stars and laughter drugged
with madness. Soon
Again 1 shall know music rich
beyond
The hour . . . and peace, like rain,
typing welcome
Upon my roof. A clear but. vagabond
Perfection shimmers and the pendu-
lum
Of love becomes the cycle of a sigh.
1 said I had forgotten— but had I?
— Ruby Diehr
T, FARM WIFE
My hean_k.nc.ws all ,he love words pot* treasure
«ut 1 can t seem to say them, though I try
i n nil. the floor, or bake an apple pie.
— Marylu Terral Jeans
SHOCK
In oil of life's emergencies
One shock I label GOOD
The Hme the local plumber came
The day he said he would.
— Helena K. Beacham
AUTUMN NIGHT
In whirring flight
A frightened quail
Shatters the stillness
Along the trail.
The weeds grow high
Where our path once led;
The orchard is barren —
The gross is dead . . .
But my thoughts of you
Are living things, —
Shining moths
With eternal wings,
Blazing a pathway
Of clean, white light
Through the shadowed hours
Of an autumn night.
— Rowena Cheney
flaring of color before the world turns white
APOLOGY IN AUTUMN
Forgive my heart for so much gulden
weather,
For moon-mist and .i river full of
stars;
For small leaf-secrets nnd a red-
feather;
A gypsy camp and fiddles and
guitars,
Forgive my bean for so much Indian
summer.
For fields moon-eyed with pumpkins
and with squashes |
For listening to the weather's tree-
top drummer
While walking you in rain without
galoshes.
Forgive my heart for so much
autumn hunger —
ll love you but I love the
loo);
For feeling gayer, giddier and
younger
Than I have any right or reason to.
forgive me and I promise to be
sober
And sane and sweet again- -after
October.
OSette Middlelori
Be sure to listen to Ted
Ma lone'* program Monday
through Friday mornings ul
11:45 EST on ABC station*,.
^*V
By
TOMMY
BARTLETT
Tommy Bartle tt is m.c.
of Welcome Travelers,
heard at 12 Noon on
ABC network stations.
OTHER members of Elsie Voight's family
grow roots. They own houses, rear
children, establish bank accounts and
identify themselves with a single commu-
nity, says our Traveler of the Month.
But Elsie Voight calls the world her
home, her skill as a linguist, accountant
and stenographer her wealth, and the peo-
ple of every land her brothers.
We were flattered when she made Wel-
come Travelers her first stop on returning
from a trip which had taken her to China
as field auditor for UNRRA, and which had
circled the globe before it ended. She was
bound for her parents' residence at Home-
wood, Illinois.
There was a temptation, that day, to
spend the whole program interviewing
Elsie, for her addresses during the past
twenty years have read like the index to
an atlas. Bogota . . . Chungking . . . Jo-
hannesburg . . . Peiping . . . Quito . . .
Zambesi River.
Driven by a burning desire to know the
face of the earth as others know a small
town, she stays in one city only long enough
to earn passage to the next destination. She
fills two bags with a suit, a pair of slacks,
a lot of blouses, two sweaters, a long-sleeved
black street dress, a short-sleeved black
afternoon dress and a black lace formal,
and she's ready for anything from crossing
a jungle on foot to presiding as hostess at
the captain's table on a big liner.
What's more, she has that gift, usually
found only among the top wire service
correspondents, of arriving in a city just at
the moment it becomes important in world
news.
Slender, soft-voiced Elsie Voight told me,
"Tommy, it was the depression that turned
me into a world traveler. I couldn't find a
job here, so I went abroad."
She started at the beginning, and told me"
her springboard to adventure had been a
trip to Minneapolis — 500 miles away — just
after she was graduated from Chicago's
Hyde Park high school. She had once had
a vacation job as bookkeeper at the YMCA
college and camp at Lake Geneva, Wiscon-
sin, so on arrival at Minneapolis, it was
natural she should ask the Y for work. To
explore the area thoroughly, ' she also
worked at the St. Paul Y. Next jump was'
San Francisco and Los Angeles. She had
her eye on Honolulu, but her family ob-
jected and she returned home.
The boom of the twenties was well under
way, and Elsie soon saw it from the vantage
point of one of the nation's leading law
firms located at the corner of Nassau and
Wall Street, in the heart of New York's
financial section. Big-name clients made
news every day on the stock market. Elsie
liked being backstage at the greatest drama
of that decade.
She spent every leisure moment sight-
seeing. After a . year, she felt she knew
New York well enough, and more sights
lay beyond its harbor. She went to Ber-
muda first, then to England, Belgium,
Holland, Germany and France.
Returning to Chicago, she stayed long
enough to add Northwestern University
credits to those she had previously acquired
at the University of Chicago, University of
California, and New York University, tak-
ing a bachelor's degree in accounting in
1928.
Then came the crash. "That deflated the
market value of my new diploma just as
surely as it burst the bubble of the real
<tJAe tfwvil ~ cl'zyflamo cfcio- amcteA mib foa/imtwh &6fa==Hile&we aw- wmmfsdae
44
estate firm for which I worked," Elsie ex-
plained. "I scrambled for jobs. Annual cuts
replaced annual raises, and I could see no
reason for remaining in Chicago."
There were those in our Welcome Trav-
elers audience who knew exactly what she
meant. You could tell by their expressions
they remembered those days too well.
Elsie started saving money for passage.
Since her regular position paid eight dol-
lars a week, she found an additional evening
job to increase her income. When her little
hoard of dollars equalled the price of a
one-way ticket to Honolulu, she set out.
She had many jobs during her two years
in Hawaii. She recalls that when she ap-
plied for one, a man inquired, "Why did
you leave the States?"
"Because there was a depression," Elsie
replied promptly.
"What," asked the man, "do you think
we're having here?"
But depression or no depression, Elsie
found firms that needed letters written and
books kept. Salaries were small, but even-
tually she saved enough for a one-way fare
to Manila. She wanted to go to China, but
with only sufficient money for one-way
passage, she had to buy her ticket to an
American port to obtain a visa.
That visa, however, permitted her to stop
off at Japan. It was a fairyland place in
those days, she remembers. A little island,
little people and small prices when one
toured the country third class and stopped
at native inns. And their ferocious dream
of world power was covered up by tidy
little manners. ■
Best of all, it was just a short distance
to Shanghai where she became secretary to
the president of the (Continued on page 92)
y,
Elsie Voight is wearing
her treasures: Chinese
robe, Brazilian rings,
bracelets from Trinidad.
5*
//*
^,
.«•
*V
1
\ bfacmav AeofUe
U$
Th COAST
Shave Cogan and Johnny Desmond in a dressy number for Face
the Music, their Mon. through Fri. CBS-TV show, 7:15 P.M. EST.
On Swing Into Sports (WABD, Mondays at 8 P.M. EST), Chuck
Tranum and Johnny Farrell okay Wendy Barrie's follow through.
Ben Crauer conducts an alert panel of participants in his Amer-
icana quii, heard and seen on WNBT, Mondays at 8:30 P.M. EST.
Playing Rube Goldberg's Drawing Game, along with the vide
DUMONT is conducting an interesting show over
WABD in New York and WNHC-TV in New
Haven, Connecticut. It's called Key to Missing
Persons and is aired on Sundays from 6 to 6:30
P.M. The star of the program is Archdale J. Jones,
expert in the work of re-uniting people long sep-
arated. Most of the cases dealt with on the series
do not involve crime or felony, and are not the
kind which normally come under police jurisdic-
tion.
Colonel Stoopnagle, long a radio favorite, made
his television debut with a show called Colonel
Stoopnagle's Stoop. Said stoop gave the irrepres-
sible Colonel a meeting place for a wide variety of
characters with whom he could exchange his pecu-
liar brand of wacky chatter. Television gives him
the opportunity to demonstrate his famous "in-
ventions" as well as talk about them.
♦ * *
Anyone who doubts that 1948 was television's
year to howl — take note that on October 1st pre-
mium time (6 to 10:30 at night) will be $1,000 an
RADIO
MIRROR
\
kome audience (WPIX, Tnes., 8 P.M. EST), a breathless quartet.
hour over the NBC television network. It was
only $400 an hour a year ago!
* * *
Credit Adelaide Hawley (whom we wrote about
in the August issue) and her Fashions on Parade
video show for bringing Procter and Gamble, one
of the five largest advertisers in America, to tele-
vision. P & G signed a 49- week contract to start at
the end of July, and have been advertising Prell
and Ivory Snow. Video needs more companies
that have large advertising budgets, so that pro-
grams can improve more rapidly.
* * *
One exciting television possibility, still in the ex-
perimental stage, is "Stratovision" or television re-
layed from an airplane — five miles up. The plane
circles and picks up a program transmitted from a
ground station; it then relays that program to
televiewers on the ground within an area 400 miles
in diameter. Since television now can only be
thrown 50 miles, stratovision is revolutionary.
* * *
Elsa Maxwell, world- (Continued on page 97)
STAN SHAW, whose Milk-
man's Matinee is a radio
standby, now goes into
WPIX television with an-
other disc show, Record
Rendezvous (7: 05 P.M. EST,
Mon.-Wed.-Fri.). He calls
it a "record variety show
with live guest stars,", and
says his tele-hours are the
hardest he's ever worked
since entering radio in 1925.
Stan's forty-ish, married to
a lovely ex-model.
JOHNNIE STEARNS
writes, directs, produces, acts
in husband-and-wife show
Mary Kay and Johnnie, on
WARD Tues., 7:15 P.M.
EST. Rent on acting, he
rushed to Hollywood after
his Roston schooldays, to
find that his resemblance
to (a) Lloyd Nolan and (b)
Humphrey Rogart stood in
the way of any real success
there. Rack in- the East, he
hit Rroadway with parts in
"One Touch of Venus," "On
The Town," "Are You With
It?" And he did better in
Eastern-made movies, get-
ting involved one way or
another in "Roomerang,"
"Kiss of Death," "Carnegie
Hall," "Miracle on 34th
Street," "Portrait of Jenny"
— all made in New York.
AL SCHACHT, as Clown
Prince of Raseball, has per-
formed before sixty million
people in forty years, ex-
pects to double that on tele
through The Al Schacht
Show (WNRT, five minutes
before every Giants base-
ball game from Polo
Grounds). He has clowned
at most World Series games
since 1921, written two
books-. Al Schacht owns a
new 52nd Street restaurant.
IRENE MURPHY, only 23,
boasts more video hours
than any girl in the busi-
ness. (It's characteristic of
the infant industry that its
veterans should be young-
sters in their 20s!) Starting
with WARD's Cash and
Carry, she . transferred last
year to RCA-Television
Caravan, which introduced
television to large depart-
ment stores across the
country. Pretty, brown-
haired "Murph" is busy
packaging her own video
program, readying it for a
debut which should be tak-
ing place early in the very
important coming season.
T E L E V I S I
EC T I 0 N
»
». * 4
-77* ^U?
Shnyc Cogan and Johnny Desmond in a dressy number for Face
the Music, their Mon. through Fri. CBS-TV show, 7:15 P.M. EST.
On Swing Into Sports (WABD, Mondays at 8 P.M. EST), Chuck
Tranuni and Johnny Farrell okay Wendy Barrie's follow through.
___________
1/5
in TELEVISION
Playing Rnbe Goldberg^ Drawing Game, along with the rii .home audience (WPIX, Tues., 8 P.M. EST), a b
DUMONT is conducting an interesting show over
WABD in New York and WNHC-TV in New
Haven, Connecticut. It's called Key to Missing
Persons and is aired on Sundays from 6 to 6:30
P.M. The star of the program is ArchdaJe J. Jones,
expert in the work of re-uniting people long sep-
arated. Most of the cases dealt with on the series
do not involve crime or felony, and are not the
kind which normally come under police jurisdic-
tion.
* • *
Colonel Stoopnagle, long a radio favorite, made
his television debut with a show called Colonel
Stoopnagle's Stoop. Said stoop gave the irrepres-
sible Colonel a meeting place for a wide variety of
characters with whom he could exchange his pecu-
liar brand of wacky chatter. Television gives him
the opportunity to demonstrate his famous "in-
ventions" as well as talk about them.
* * *
Anyone who doubts that 1948 was television's
year to howl— take note that on October 1st pre-
mium time (6 to 10:30 al night) will be $1,000 an
hour over the NBC television network. It was
only $400 an hour a year ago!
Credit Adelaide Hawley (whom we wrote about
in the August issue) and her Fashions on Parade
video show for bringing Procter and Gamble, one
of the five largest advertisers in America, to tele-
vision. P & G signed a 49-week contract to start at
the end of July, and have been advertising Prell
and Ivory Snow. Video needs more companies
that have large advertising budgets, so that pro-
grams can improve more rapidly.
* * •
One exciting television possibility, still in the ex-
perimental stage, is "Stratovision" or television re-
layed from an airplane — five miles up. The plane
circles and picks up a program transmitted from a
ground station; it then relays that program to
televiewers on the ground within an area 400 miles
in diameter. Since television now can only be
thrown 50 miles, stratovision is revolutionary.
* » *
Elsa Maxwell, world- (Continued on page 97)
STAN SHAW, whose Milk-
man's Matinee is a radio
standby, now goes into
WPIX television with an-
other disc show, Record
Rendezvous (7:05 P.M. EST,
Mon.-Wed.-Fri.). He calls
it a "record variety show
with live guest stars/' and
says his tele-hours are the
hardest he's ever worked
since entering radio in 1925.
Stan's forty-ish, married to
a lovely ex-model.
JOHNNIE STEARNS
writes, directs, produces, acts
in husband-and-wife show
Mary Kay and Johnnie, on
WABD Tues., 7:15 P.M.
EST. Bent on acting, he
rushed to Hollywood after
his Boston schooldays, to
find that his resemblance
to (a) Lloyd Nolan and (b)
Humphrey Bogart stood in
the way of any real success
there. Back in- the East, he
hit Broadway with parts in
"One Touch of Venus," "On
The Town." "Are You With
It?" And he did better in
Eastern-made movies, get-
ting involved one way or
another in "Boomerang,"
"Kiss of Death," "Carnegie
Hall," "Miracle on 34th
Street," "Portrait of Jenny"
—all made in New York.
AL SCHACHT, as Clown
Prince of Baseball, has per-
formed before sixty million
people in forty years, ex-
pects to double that on tele
through The Al Schacht
Show (WNBT, five minutes
before every Giants base-
ball game from Polo
Grounds). He has clowned
at most World Series games
since 1921, written two
book* Al Schacht owns a
new 52nd Street restaurant
IRENE MURPHY, only 23.
boasts more video hour*
than any girl in the busi-
ness. (It's characteristic of
the infant industry that its
veterans should be young-
sters in their 20s!) Starting
with WABD*s Cash and
Carry, she. transferred last
year to RCA-Televlsion
Caravan, which introduced
television to large depart-
ment stores across the
country. Pretty, brown-
haired "Murpb" ia busy
packaging her owi
program, readying
debut which should be tak-
ing place early m the very
important ooming
Ben Grauer conducts an alert panel of participants in bis Amer-^
icana quia, heard and seen on WNBT, Mondays at 8:30 P.M. EST.
T S\ KT
i? r t t n N
1. Luncheon at Lucey's in Hollywood preceded tele-
debut on Mutual of "Leave It." Constance Bennett
and fluffy Miss Prudence sat between guest Walter
O'Keefe and (r.) MBS exec. Lewis Allen Weiss.
5. As female guest-of-the-day Ann Rutherford pre-
pares for her ordeal by television, she's watched
critically by Don Lee makeup expert J. Grant Wil-
son (standing), and with awe by Mike Frankovich.
mve
2. Seated far left, Robin Chandler, a permanent
"Girl"; far right, Constance Moore. Standing, psy-
choanalyst Dr. J. W. Gregory; Vanessa Brown;
Charles Korvin; Ann Rutherford; Ruth Warrick.
6. First up to congratulate Robin Chandler after
the broadcast was comedian Joe E. Brown, still
laughing. The program's point is that the "Girls"
are not only beautiful — but bright as new pennies'.
3, In spite of crash, actress Vanessa Brown did get
to sit down. But she had to get up again to get
to tele-studio on time. As in radio, "Leave It"
has permanent panel plus male and female guest.
4. Unkind video lights make small amount of gild-
ing necessary even for Chandler and Bennett, though
they are about as telegenic as humankind can be.
Brown lipstick is gruesome but necessary touch.
BUD GUEST'S stock answer to the question,
"Where do you get all the material for your
program?" is an understated, "I just report the
news nobody else wants."
An experienced radioman once appropriately .
added, "Yeah, nobody but the listeners — thousands
of them!"
For Bud Guest, WJR's Reporter-at-large, with
his inconsequential news items "that nobody wants,"
is, a pillar of Hooper audience strength in The
Goodwill Station 50,000-watt line-up.
It's a natural flair Bud has for sunny items. He
is the son of poet-philosopher Edgar A. Guest,
whose homespun verses have brought many a smile
to the most downtrodden and tugged at the heart-
strings of the most cynical.
Bud doesn't take to iambic meters and such, but
he shows in other ways the influence of his early
environment. He puts into prose and narration
many of the cheery philosophies his world-famous
dad put into poetry.
It's a little difficult to describe Bud's Reporter-at-
Large program. Over the past two and a half years
since his return from the Navy, he has explored
such subjects as the best way to cure hiccups, how
to get a bat out of a summer cottage, the private
life of a platypus, the history of the goldfish, how to
be comfortable while taking a rocket trip to the
moon, and how to understand what your patients
are saying to you should you ever become a dentist.
Bud recently became involved with unusual
epitaphs. It started innocently enough. The news
wires carried an item quoting an English clergyman
to the effect that our generation had become a
humorless lot when it came to writing epitaphs.
Our ancestors did a lot better at it; they were not
content merely to list the deceased's name, along
with the dates of birth and death. They told some-
thing about the person occupying the plot of land
beneath the stone.
Bud agreed with the clergyman over the air, and
called for an improvement in present-day epitaphs.
The call was heard, apparently, by an enormous
number of people who specialize in epitaph-col-
lecting, for samples of this high art came to Guest's
desk for weeks. Of all the sample epitaphs his
listeners supplied he likes these for reasons of style,
incisiveness, and ingenuity:
"Here lies a man whose crown was won,
By blowing down an empty gun.
No sooner down the gun he blew
Than up the golden stairs he flew."
Bud contends that such an epitaph tells the com-
plete story of what happened to the gentleman
resting beneath the marker.
But the one that he prefers above all others, pri-
marily because the author displayed more than the
usual amount of inventiveness in constructing the
rhyme, concerns the sad passing of one Susan Low-
der. It goes like this:
"Here lies the body of Susan Lowder
Who burst while drinking a Seidlitz Powder.
Called from this world to her heavenly rest
She should have waited till it effervesced."
WJR's Bud Guest reports the
news nobody wants — -nobody, that is,
except thousands of radio listeners
Happily married, Bud is the father of three chil-
dren, Edgar A. Guest, III, nine; Ellen Elizabeth
Guest, seven, and Jane Maynard Guest, three. They
live in Detroit on the second fairway of the Detroit
Golf Club.
Despite his poor eyesight, Bud was an officer-
instructor in aerial gunnery in the Navy during the
war. Before that, as city editor of the Detroit Free
Press, he became impressed with the popularity of
humorous fillers with newspaper readers. Then too,
Bud has a great personal penchant for laughs in the
news. With the rest of the world taking such a dim
yiew of life, he feels there ought to be a spot on
radio where light-hearted trivia gets a chance.
That's the spot he's made for himself, with th$
"news nobody wants" — to which thousands listen.
50
Poet-philosopher Edgar A. Guest uained his iufant son Edgar Jr. — hut Junior became "Bud" the day after
he was born. Paralleling his father's habit of looking on the cheerful side of things, Bud decided to concentrate,
as a reporter, on the small humorous items which more "serious" commentators customarily throw away. Via
WJR, he's found a lot of listeners who agree with him that there's a place in radio for trivia.
51
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thanked Roberta Roberts of the Bride and Groom
office with a kiee "because -she'd heen^so ...nice. .
«• .
1 -
•• *•"•
ONLY a few blocks separate the Bride
and Groom studios on Wilshire
Boulevard from the fabulous "Strip"
on Sunset Boulevard, where are located
the famed restaurants and night-clubs
that figure prominently in so many
Hollywood legends. And yet, despite
the fact that we'll soon be starting our
fourth year on the air, there have been
only two or three Bride and Groom
couples chosen from the hundreds of
people whose lives are connected with
that famous "Sunset Strip."
There is an understandable reason for
that. For one thing, we have deliber-
ately avoided choosing couples who
were already front-page celebrities. We
wanted our couples to represent the sort
of love stories lived by the type of boy
and girl that we all know in our own
lives. Too, there was the fact that Holly-
wood romances often receive such sen-
sational publicity that there is likely to
be a question as to the sincerity of any
movie-town marriage. We knew that
such publicity had often been without
the slightest justification, but we didn't
want even the shadow of a question to
arise about a Bride and Groom couple.
After all, we're mighty proud that our
couples have established a new national
record in proving they were sincere
when they made their marriage vows."
That was why (Continued on page 70)
* «
• - •» -w. 1
. .- ...
» -*■ -• . .
— •-
. - •
•".Ray — to whom everything seemed absolutely perfect — was
Bride ~ai»d Groom, -with John Ntkon M.m.c, i« heard
Monday through Friday at Z: JO P.M., EST, on ABC •t.Uon..
• . ......
^^M
;»:
PER.
• Ray v&in'l left oat wWr bride-kissing
* , .'.'■..■., '.,:",:';'; '".'.^■'-""•'•"1-;:'-''- --"»'••"' ' roond. As singer Jack MeElroy sainted Mary, R,, . ""^ Z^""1
-"'"'.•*',' ^ *• "" ' ,.■ . - ■ ^ ,', • ',,.'..'. ( fc -\ *•■
."'.'' ■'•" . Mary Gilmore'a wedding party is looking at .***_" -'»"'.". .* .' .', - -' '.
one of the: things that ' make -""this boy-meets- ,
*V girl-in-rjo^ywopd^ slpry^sd "unnsual: "ifie" wed- , !
^-'""W r'D! ">«' almost- Mopped :the. wedding; ,'
! "thanked Roberta Roberts of the Bride and .Groom "
' afice with a kies -**r»ecanjie--. she'd Tleen'so .^nice,'* .
ONLY a few blocks separate the Bride
and Groom studios on Wilshire
Boulevard from the fabulous "Strip"
on Sunset Boulevard, where are located
the famed restaurants and night-dubs
that figure prominently in so many
Hollywood legends. And yet, despite
the fact that we'll soon be starting our
fourth year on the air, there have been
only two or three Bride and Groom
couples chosen from the hundreds of
people whose lives are connected with
that famous "Sunset Strip."
There is an understandable reason for
that. For one thing, we have deliber-
ately avoided choosing couples who
were already front-page celebrities. We
wanted our couples to represent the sort
of love stories lived by the type of boy
and girl that we all know in our own
lives. Too, there was the fact that Holly-
wood romances often receive such sen-
sational publicity that there is likely to
be a question as to the sincerity of any
movie-town marriage. We knew that
such publicity had often been without
the slightest justification, but we didn't
want even the shadow of a question to
arise about a Bride and Groom couple.
After all, we're mighty proud that our
couples have established a new national
record in proving they were sincere
when they made their marriage vows."
That was why (Continued on page 70)
By. jo,rii; X£.l$.o-n;: : >,.i.'..:
' Ray— to whom everything seemed abaolotely perfect— waa '
surprised when Mary's mother found' a fold .ant of place.
"
baaV~'e*»i Gloom. »ith JoEo No» aa'aa.c!, I, baud
»~Ut uJaa^t Friday •■ 1:X r J»., EST, a. ABC t.lloi...
THROUGH THE YEARS WITH
■
fy
^K tSmmmJ^m^*
$ •♦
The story of Chichi— from her eventful meeting with Papa David, long ago, up to the present day
1. David Solomon was a lonely man until that night, many years ago, when Chichi blundered into his "Slightly Read Book Shop"
. . . and his life. Locked out of her sordid tenement home by the woman who had raised her, the frightened, defiant Chichi, little
more than a child, ran into the Book Shop for shelter. But she found much more than that: a permanent home, a lovable, wise
old man to whom she rapidly became as close as a daughter, and the inspiration to transform herself into a worthwhile human being.
FOR many years, Papa David's
"Slightly Read Book Shop" has
been a source of far more than
second-hand books. Shrewd and
tolerant, with an unshakable faith
in humankind, Papa David has led
many others to an understanding of
his personal creed — belief in the in-
trinsic beauty of life. To Chichi, his
protegee, the faces in Papa David's
album are well known; but to writer
Douglas Norman, who has only re-
recently found his way to the Book
Shop, everything about it is new and
fascinating — particularly the people
from whom it takes its personality.
"LIFE CAN BE BEAUTIFUL" CAST MEMBERS
Papa David played by Ralph l.orke
Cbirhi Alice Rriabrart
I>oucla» Norman Sidney Smith
Toby Neloon Carl Eaatman
Dr. Mark bam Chart** Webaler
Nellie Clea-oo Elh«l Ow«
Life Can Be Beautiful, written by
Carl Bixby and Don Becker, is heard
on NBC every Monday through Fri-
day, at 12 noon, PST; 1 P.M. MST;
2 P.M. CST; 3 P.M. EST.
2. Papa David arranged living space for Chichi at the
rear of the shop, and set her to dusting the books. He
watched with satisfaction as she began to realise that
between the covers of those worn-out books, whole worlds
of knowledge and beauty were waiting to be discovered.
55
THROUGH THE YEARS WITH
3. Chichi was still friendly with her old companion,
Toby Nelson, who objected violently to his friend's
new way of life — not to Papa David, but to
the fact that the Book Shop's living quarters
were also sheltering crippled Stephen Hamilton.
4. As Chichi bloomed under Papa David's care,
Nellie, the woman who claimed to be her mother,
tried to regain Chichi's confidence by telling her
the truth about her parents: both were dead. "After
all," Nellie emphasized, "I brought you up."
7. At this opportune time, self-seeking Nellie re-
appeared, "mothered" Chichi, and was able to enlist
her aid in operating a disreputable hotel. When
Chichi realized what was going on, she exerted her-
self to reform both the hotel and, temporarily, Nellie.
8. It was at the Gleason Hotel that Chichi met and
fought with writer Douglas Norman. Her misunder-
standing of him turned to hatred when she realized
that if it had not been for his search for material,
Stephen's duplicity might never have come to light.
56
6M\j
fofMtfjUl
5. When Chichi met young Barry Markham, playboy
son of famous Dr. Bertram Markham, she was thrilled
by his attention — until Dr. Markham came to "rescue"
his son from the girl he thought predatory. Con-
flict became affection as he learned to know Chichi.
6. Though Dr. Markham now tried to promote the
romance between Barry and Chichi, she finally mar-
ried Stephen. Happiness was brief. Stephen died sud-
denly, and bitterness succeeded grief when Chichi
learned Stephen had been dishonest and unfaithful.
9. But quarreling was
suspended when Doug-
las, after a dangerous
eye injury, was moved
at Dr. Markham's re-
quest into the office and
flat adjoining the Book
Shop. Moved by emo-
tions she herself could
not define, Chichi vol-
unteered to take care
of Douglas and to act
as his secretary.
RADIO
MIRROR
READER
BOMS
V
TIE IIFE OF
With Godfrey (far left) on his 10:30 A. M. show: assistant Mugs Richardson; writer Chuck Horner; secretary Mimi
Ross; writer Hank Miles; Archie Bleyer standing before his orchestra; at right of guitarist, producer Will Roland;
at mike, far right, announcer Tony Marvin, vocalist Janette Davis; behind them, the Mariners Quartet.
ARTHUR GODFREY'S story is a strange saga
of journeys over the Seven Seas, of vagrant
wanderings across our continent, of itinerant
jobs in offices, kitchens, coal mines, vaudeville
houses and factories.
It is a chronicle that borders on the fabulous
and there are still people who doubt that so many
things could have happened to any one man in
such a short span of years. But the story is a true
one and, if anything, it is less challenging to the
imagination than the glittering facts of his present-
day success.
Sailor, salesman, coal miner, room clerk, chauf-
feur, chef, vagabond, vaudevillian . . . radio ama-
teur to radio personality extraordinary — he might
never have embarked on such a checkered career
were it not for the special circumstances of his
young boyhood.
Radio's famous redhead was born on August 31,
1903, to Kathryn and Arthur Hanbury Godfrey
who lived at Amsterdam Avenue and 112th Street
in New York City. Two years later, the Godfreys
moved from crowded Manhattan to rural Has-
brouck Heights in New Jersey. It was a tiny town
which only recently had persuaded the Erie Rail-
road to make regular passenger and freight stops
there. Horse-drawn buggies clop-clopped down
its dusty, tree-shaded main street. The earthy
smell of livery stables was a commonplace thing
and the most violent sounds heard were the occa-
!
Hear Arthur Godfrey on CHS, Monday thronfrh Friday at 6 to 7:45 A. M., 10:30 to 11:30 4.M., and Monday nighta at 8:30 EST.
./
Red Godfrey's story is a fairy
tale with a difference. It's not only
wonderful . . . it's true, too
^756?" *v
.
H^ * 40
■I
* n£
H
s
1 '
1
1 L«
5§«i
■
'^Mg&-
|f|.i
I
Come weekends, Arthur is likely to take to
the water with as many sea-going friends as
his sloop can carry. Singer Janette Davis, a good
sailor, comes along as one of the redhead's party.
By IRA KNASTER
This is the Godfrey who was known to Bal-
timore listeners, some years ago, as "Red."
sional hoot of a train whistle or the jolly clang of
a blacksmith's anvil.
It was a pleasant, picturesque environment . . .
but Arthur was still too young for any of it to
register on his mind. A couple of years later,
though, when he was nearing his fourth birthday,
a vivid incident did leave its mark.
"It's my earliest recollection," he says. "It
seems I got lost in a meadow. I remember that
one minute everything was safe and familiar.
Then, before I knew it, this tall grass began closing
in on me. I started to run. The grass got taller
and thicker and I got more and more panicky.
I must have thrashed around in that maze for
only a minute but it felt like a year. I blubbered
and screamed and suddenly mother was standing
there, smiling. She had a hard time convincing
me that I'd got lost only about twenty feet away
from our front porch."
Fortunately, Arthur's childhood misadventure
didn't leave him with any unhealthy fear of the
great outdoors. Actually, the opposite is true . . .
so very true that, reminiscing about him, J. Earle
Thomson, Arthur's old school principal, recalls
him as "the Daniel Boone of Teterboro."
In the period when Arthur was eleven or twelve
years old, a tremendous, swampy bottomland
sprawled at the foot of the ridge on which Has-
brouck Heights was settled. This was Teterboro,
a marshland pocked with bog-holes, stagnant
59
THE LIFE of ARTHUR GODFREY
pools, grassy hummocks and a criss-cross of dank water-
ways and brackish streams. Old men would come down
to this mosquito-infested place with spades and cut' out
blocks of decayed vegetation called peat. In season, great
flocks of wild ducks would darken the sky . . . and the
sharp bark of shotguns would fill the air.
Teterboro swamp was Arthur's Shangri-la, his play-
ground. In it, along with Allan Vannoti, tomboy Molly
Moran and other companions, he fished, crabbed, hunted
for birds' nests and sailed home-made boats. Best of all
were the hours spent in trapping muskrats. If, now and
then, one of the crude traps snared a muskrat, its dark pelt
could be sold for a few welcome dollars.
One of his chums owned a keen rifle that never failed
to bring a glint of envy to Arthur's blue eyes. It would
have been swell bagging muskrats with a rifle like that but
they cost money . . . more money than he dared to mention
in the Godfrey household those days.
Only eleven years old, but already Arthur was conscious
of the meaning of money. Day after day, his awareness
of it came from spoken and unspoken references to it at
home. Arthur now had sisters and brothers . . . Kathryn,
Charles, Robert and Gene. It was a large family to feed
and many times the worry of it was written in mother's
eyes.
Mother . . . with her tall, slender figure and -her lovely
auburn hair — a magnetic personality, some of the neigh-
bors said. Every ounce of her patience and love went into
the rearing of this family and still, with an intense kind
of pride, she would find time for community activities.
There was the church choir. There were the meetings of
The Woman's Club of which she was a charter member.
There were discussions at the Shakespeare Club and,
every so often, a trip by ferry to New York for some
performance of "Hamlet" or "Othello." Mother took part
in these cultural events ... as often as her dwindling
60
Sailor, salesman, chauffeur, chef . . . Godfrey has
not forgotten the knocking-around he once took.
Margaret "Mugs" Richardson is head of the small
army of assistants who expedite Godfrey's shows.
means permitted. The occasions became fewer and fewer.
As for Dad, outwardly his dapper appearance bespoke
self-assurance and security. Still in his prime, a fine fig-
ure of a man with fair complexion, alert, intelligent eyes
set in handsome features, he was every inch the gentleman.
His vocabulary was remarkably extensive and his manner
of speech was precise and in keeping with his English
education.
DUT Dad indulged in fewer witticisms than he used
to . . . laughed less frequently, less heartily. He talked
only occasionally about the fascinating work he had done
as feature writer for national magazines, as editor of trade
papers and periodicals that dealt with horse-breeding and
horse shows. He'd been an acknowledged expert on those
subjects. Sometimes there would be a special ring in his
voice as he told stories about the glamorous people he'd
seen and met while working as publicist for millionaire
Vanderbilt's racing interests.
But an important change had taken place. Exactly
what this change was, Arthur didn't know, except that it
was linked to the atmosphere at home. Dimly, he realized
that it had something to do with horses and money and
laughter at the dinner table. It had something to do with
the grim, resigned look that came over Dad's face when-
ever one of those new-fangled "horseless buggies" chugged
into view.
And so, with the coming of his school vacation, young
Arthur Godfrey elected not to laze in the summer sun.
Instead, he traipsed down to Ehler's grocery store and
offered his services for whatever wage Mr. Ehler deemed
worth-while. Small fry weren't much good behind the
counter, so a post was found for him as assistant in charge
of deliveries. That arrangement was okay with Arthur
because, like his father, he loved being near horses . . . and
the Ehler deliveries were made via one-horse-power
wagon. It was a prospering establishment and orders had to
be taken to customers who lived all over the neighboring
countryside. Arthur liked moving about and meeting folks
. . . and besides, he was able to come home on Saturday
nights with a fistful of silver.
There were other summers and other jobs. There were
THE LIFE of ARTHUR GODFREY
jobs he worked at in after-school hours. There was the
newspaper route he shared with Ralph Chandless and the
job of driving Schaeffer's bakery wagon.
He was growing up, taking on man-sized responsibilities.
But the kid had his off moments, too. For example, the
several occasions when he was supposed to be exercising
Mr. Schaeffer's horse and when, instead, he was seen
riding the nag bareback down some otherwise quiet resi-
dential street — charging hell-for-leather past the house of
some pretty girl he was trying to impress.
'T'HEN, there was the matter of Mrs. Goodrich's Thursday
afternoon card party, a social institution in Hasbrouck
Heights. It was Mrs. Goodrich's custom to serve the ladies
cold refreshments in summertime. This was August and
she had ordered three quarts of ice cream from John Fer-
rari's Sweet Shoppe, young Godfrey's current place of
employment. At 3 P.M., promptly as instructed, Mr. Fer-
rari had the cold refreshment packed and in Arthur's
hands for delivery. At 3: 45 P.M., Ferrari's prized customer
telephoned and, in tones several degrees chillier than any
ice cream, demanded to know why it hadn't arrived.
Frantically, Ferrari dashed outside. The first thing he
saw was Arthur and a couple of other kids crouched over
a hot game of marbles . . . and three quarts of hot ice
cream oozing off the curbstone.
However, those departures from good behavior were
very rare. Ask John Ferrari today and he'll tell you
emphatically that "Arthur was a fine lad. If he earned a
two-bit tip I happen to know that he'd turn it over to his
mother. And when she let him have the nickel for ice
cream, he'd come into my place like the happiest youngster
alive."
In that period, just prior to the first World War, im-
portant social changes were taking place in America . . .
changes brought about by the appearance of two new
developments — the flivver and the flickers. Already it was
apparent that the increasing numbers of automobiles were
having an adverse effect on the elder Godfrey's fortunes.
As for the movies, they, oddly enough, provided a means
of livelihood for Mrs. Godfrey.
Hasbrouck Heights' sole movie emporium may have
been named the usual Bijou, or Palace, or Cameo. No one
seems to recall just what its proper name was, but every-
one does remember it as "the monkey-house." It probably
earned that label because of wild monkey-shines indulged
in by the town's teen-age set. "The Perils of Pauline,"
the Mack Sennett Comedies, the Theda Bara heart-throb-
bers, the Vitagraph epics and all the Charlie Chaplin films
paraded across its silver screen.
Seated at the piano down front, playing mood music for
all those silent flickers, was Arthur Godfrey's mother. It
was work that utilized her musical talent. It was work
that meant income, however meager.
The Black Tom explosion, booming within earshot of
Hasbrouck Heights . . . unrestricted U-boat warfare in the
Atlantic . . . our declaration of a state of war against
Germany . . . Wilson's Fourteen Points of Peace . . . Battle
of the Somme . . . Battle of the Meuse-Argonne. . . .
Against the background of those troubling world events,
Arthur progressed from grammar school to high school.
He was a good student, neither brilliant nor mediocre.
He became known as a chronic yawner in morning
classes, just as he is today during his early morning
broadcasts. He had a special aptitude for mathematics.
Geography captured his imagination although there were
several instances when his open geography book was
used to shield some novel of high adventure. In one
biology class, Arthur amazed his teacher and fellow
students by accurately identifying several species of
bird-life, topping off his talk with an enlightening dis-
course on nesting characteristics (Continued on page 96)
Mary and Arthur can ride over quite a bit of Virginia without leaving their own land, of which there's 800 acres.
61
PARTY FOOD SHOULD
BENW
^ &QQD ™ L°0K AT AS ,T IS TO £Ar,
ONCE a year it's fitting for ghosts to stalk your
table. Heap goblins on to the sandwich platter
with funny face cut-outs. Cut circles from
Boston brown bread. In half of them snip out eyes
and mouth. Spread the remaining slices with a
contrasting colored filling. A good yellow pimiento
cheese mixture is good with brown bread. Choose
ham or tongue or a jelly for the white ones. Let
ghosts walk on the sandwich platter by stuffing
celery stalks with cream cheese, using leafy celery
ends for the arms. Stand the ghosts to guard the
sandwich pile. Serve a pitcher of cider and fresh
apples to munch on.
Here are other suggestions for holiday cele-
brating around Halloween.
BLACK CAT COOKIES
Melt bitter chocolate over warm water and keep
warm enough not to harden. Put a drop of
chocolate in the middle of a large round cookie,
over this place a chocolate coated peppermint
wafer for the body of (Continued on page 84)
CROSS BONES SALAD
Serve this on a supper plate along wit/)
hot -food. Take 2 stalks of stuffed celery
and cross them on a lettuce leaf. At one
end place 2 stuffed prunes. (Remove
stones and fill each prune with seasoned
cream cheese.) Use stuffed olives for the
eyes. Cut a triangle of olive for the nose
and a pimiento strip for the mouth.
Serve with mayonnaise at the side.
HALLOWEEN SALAD
Lightly mix canned kernel corn, cooked
shredded stringbeans, cubed cooked po-
tatoes and hard-cooked eggs, chopped.
Season to taste with minced onion, salt
and pepper and fold in enough mayon-
naise to moisten. Serve in lettuce cups,
garnish with tomato slices and sprinkle
with grated hard-cooked egg yolks.
HALLOWEEN SUPPERS
Goblin-faced Meat Pies
(face slashed in crust)
Julienne Carrots
Orange Ice in Orange Cups
Chocolate cookies
Gingerale
*******
Halloween Salad
Cream Cheese Sandwich
Nuts Apples Taffy
Orange-Filed Cup Cakes or
Doughnuts
Sweet Cider
ORANGE ICE
Combine 2 cups of water and I cup of
sugar. Heat until sugar is dissolved. Then
add 2 cups of strained orange juice and
'/} cup of strained lemon juice. Cool,
and then pour into ice cube trays. Place
in freezing compartment of refrigerator.
Freeze until firm. Makes H/2 pints or 6
servings.
By
KATE SMITH
RADIO MIRROR
FOOD COUNSELOR
■
62
Listen to Kate Smith Speaks, heard Monday through
Friday at 12 Noon, EST, on Mutual network stations.
IU II Ml II I I! I! II II for BETTER LIVISG
The fun of a Halloween party can be magnified by having refreshments that carry out the ghosts-and-witches
theme — in an appetizing way, of course! Leafy ghosts walking among goblin-faced sandwiches will do it.
63
All limes Below Are EASTERN STANDARD TIME
For Correct CENTRAL STANDARD TIME, Subtract One Hour
s
U N
DAY
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Earl Wild
Carolina Calling
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story to Order
Words and Music
Tone Tapestries
Chamber Music
Society
White Rabbit Line
News
E, Power Biggs
Trinity Choir of
St. Paul's Chapel
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Bible Highlights
Voices Down The
Wind
Radio Bible Class
Voice of Prophecy
Message of Israel
Southernaires
Church of the Air
Church of the Air
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
News Highlights
Solitaire Time
Christian Reform
Church
Reviewing Stand
Fine Arts Quartette
Hour of Faith
Howard K. Smith
The News Makers
Salt Lake Tabernacle
12:00
Breakfast in Wash-
Texas Jim Robertson
Invitation to Learning
12:15
ington
12:30
Eternal Light
Lutneran Hour
People's Platform
12:45
Piano Playhouse
1:00
America United
William L. Shirer
Sam Pettengill
1:15
Mutual Music Box
Edward "Ted"
Weeks
1:30
Chicago Round Table
Music
National Vespers
Tell It Again
1:45
2:00
First Piano Quartet
Army Air Force
This Week Around
You Are There
2:15
Show
the World
2:30
Robert Merrill
Bill Cunningham
Mr. President
Joseph C. Harsch
2:45
Veteran's Information
Drama
Elmo Roper
3:00
Eddy Howard
Charlie's House
Harrison Wood
CBS Symphony
3:15
The Almanac
Orch.
3:30
One Man's Family
Juvenile Jury
Dance Music
3:45
4:00
The Quiz Kids
House of Mystery
4:15
Thinking Allowed
4:30
News
True Detective
Make Mine Music
4:45
Living— 1948
5:00
Author Meets the
The Shadow
Personal Autograph
5:15
Critics
Musical
5:30
Jane Pickens
Quick As A Flash
David Harding
Sunday At The Chase
5:45
Counterspy
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
The Catholic Hour
Those Websters
Drew Pearson
Family Hour
6:15
Don Gardner
6:30
Hollywood Star
Nick Carter
Greatest Story Ever
The Pause That Re-
6:45
Preview
Told
freshes on the Air
7:00
Sherlock Holmes
Johnny Thompson
Gene Autry
7:15
7:30
Rexall Summer
Behind the Front
Johnny Fletcher
Blondie
7:45
Theater
Page
8:00
Charlie McCarthy
A. L. Alexander
Stop the Music
Sam Spade
8:15
Show
8:30
RFD America
Jimmie Fidler
Man Called X
8:45
Twin Views of News
9:00
Manhattan Merry-
Walter Winchell
Winner Take All
9:15
Go-Round
Louella Pnrsons
9:30
American Album
Jim Backus
Theatre Guild on
Strike It Rich
9:45
the Air
10:00
Take It or Leave It
Voice of Strings
Hollywood Show-
10:15
case, Mickey
Rooney
10:30
Horace Heidt
Clary's Gazette
Jimmie Fidler
Escape
MOREY AMSTERDAM— fast-talking
night-club performer now heard Sat-
urday nights at 9:00 P.M., EST, CBS.
king
S.-it.
MARILYN ERSKINE— plays the role
of Janey Brown in Young Widder
Brown which is heard Mondays to
Fridays on CBS at 4:45 P.M. EST. No
stranger to the Broadway stage, Mari-
lyn has appeared in many big-time
productions, one of which was Thorn-
ton Wilder's successful "Our Town."
Despite a busy acting schedule, she
has managed to find time to study
languages and music as well as to
write several short stories and poems.
MONDAY
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in New
York
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love and Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
U. S. Navy Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Luncheon at Sardi's
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
Fun House
Jack Aimstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
64
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
In My Opinion
Fred Feibel
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
The Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Cavalcade of
America
Voice of Firestone
The Falcon
Casebook of Gregory
Hood
Billy Rose
Sound Off
Stars in the Night
Inner Sanctum
Talent Scouts
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Telephone Hour
Dr. 1. Q.
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Quiet Please
Tomorrow's Tops
Get Rich Quick
Lux Radio Show
10:00
10:15
10:30
Contented Program
Fred Waring
Fishing and Hunting
Club
Dance Orch.
Arthur Gaeth
Earl Godwin
Vaughn Monroe
ARNOLD STANG— goggle-eyed, 5'4",
120-pounder has been playing comedy
parts for fourteen of his twenty-five
years. A native of Chelsea, Mass., he
acquired his radio experience in Let's
Pretend, The Children's Hour, and
The Goldbergs in which he created the
role of Seymour which later emerged
as the hapless Gerard, mirth-provoking
addition to The Henry Morgan Show.
TUESDAY
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:00
8:45
Do You Remember
News
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Club Time
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
H ark n ess of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Art Van Damme
Quartet
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Bo Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Luncheon At Sardi's
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
6:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
superman
Tom Mix
Fun House
Sky King
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
W E D N E
S D
A Y
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say it With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine Of The Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst. in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
i
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
U. S. Marine Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
NBC Concert Orch.
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Maggi McNellis .
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Luncheon At Sardi's
Red Hook 31
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
The Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
Fun House
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Talks
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Adrian Rollini Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Dennis Day
Great Gildersleeve
Special Agent
High Adventure
Billy Rose
On Stage America
Mr. Chameleon
Dr. Christian
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Tex and Jinx
Mr. District Attorney
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Lionel Hampton
Show
Abbott and Costello
Go For the House
Your Song and Mine
Harvest of Stars
with James Melton
10:00
10:15
10:30
The Big Story
Opinion-Aire
California Melodies
Bing Crosby
Gordon MacRae
The Whistler
Capitol Cloak Room
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Frontiers of Science
Fred Feibel
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Lennie Herman
Quintet
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Green Hornet Drama
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Dinan Shore, Harry
James and Johnny
Mercer
Date With Judy
Mysterious Traveler
Billy Rose
Youth Asks the
Government
Edwin D. Cantham
America's Town
Meeting of the Air
Mystery Theater
Mr. and Mrs. North
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Amos 'n' Andy
Call the Police
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Lone Wolf
Local Programs
We, The People
Hit The Jackpot
10:00
10:15
10:30
Bob Hope Show
People Are Funny
Public Defender
Dance Orchestra
NAM Series
Labor U. S. A.
Studio One
MARY SMALL— whom radio fans
will remember as the singing M. C. of
the recent Mary Small-Junior Miss
program and as "the little girl with the
big voice" can now be heard on Mu-
tual's radio game. Three For The
Money, aired Saturday nights from 9
to 10 P.M., EST. Mary is married to
song writer Vic Mizzy who has written
a long string of hits. They have a
daughter, three-year-old Patti Lou.
65
It a« 'I
^■''"'.rY^'V' :-".V;V"':
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
|8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon inN. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Dorothy Kilgallen
Music for You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
CONNIE DESMOND— who helps add
sparkle to CBS's County Fair, Wednes-
days at 9:00 P.M., EST, as a member
of the singing "Bordenaires" quartet
still finds it had to explain how she
broke into radio so easily. Her first job
was as a singer with an ETO touring
unit; later she joined a quartet with
Louis Prima's band. And in four
short months she was offered her pres-
ent spot with the County Fair quartet.
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Service Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Art Van Damme
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Quartet
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen for a Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Luncheon At Sardi's
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
Galen Drake
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
*
5:00
When a Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Fun House
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Capt. Midnight
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Superman
Sky King
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
rmx^m^wmut
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Of Men and Books
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Lawrence Welk
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Aldrich Family
Burns and Allen
Lucky Partners
Better Half Quiz
Billy Rose
Front Page
Criminal Casebook
Dr. Staridish
Mr. Keen
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Nelson Eddy-Dorothy
Kirsten
Sealtest Village Store
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Revere Revue
Background For
Stardom
Child's World
Candid Microphone
Suspense
Crime Photographer
10:00
10:15
10:30
Bob Hawk Show
The Time, The Place
and The Tune
Family Theatre
Local Programs
Radio Readers'
Digest
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atche
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
The Listening Post
Music for You
Sing Along
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bfst. in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
Campus Salute
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
U. S. Marine Band
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen for a Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burto-
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Luncheon At Sardi's
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Red Hook 31
Galen Drake
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Fun House
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Capt. Midnight
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Superman
Jack Armstrong
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
ROY ROGERS— one of the greatest
box office attractions of all time has
come a long way since the days when
he was plain Len Slye of Duck Run,
Ohio. He began his career as a mem-
ber of the International Cowboys and
later joined the Sons of The Pioneers.
Republic Pictures claimed him next.
Recently, Roy returned to the air after
a long absence; Roy can be heard on
Sundays at 6:00 P.M., EST on Mutual.
66
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
News
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Report from the
United Nations
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Mary Osborn Trio
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Alvin Heifer
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Cities Service Band
of America
Great Scenes From
Great Plays
Leave It to the Girls
Billy Rose
The Fat Man
This Is Your FBI
Mr. Ace and Jane
9:00
9:15
9:30
First Piano Quartet
Waltz Time
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Col. Stoopnagle's Quiz
Break the Bank
The Sheriff
Local Programs
10:00
10:15
10:30
Mystery Theater
Sports
Meet the Press
Tex Beneko
Boxing Bouts
Everybody Wins,
Phil Baker
Spotlight Revue
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story Shop
Mind Your Manners
Robert Hurleigh
Practical Gardner
Shoppers Special
CBS News of America
Renfro Valley Folks
Garden Gate
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Frank Merriwell
Archie Andrews
Bill Harrington
Ozark Valley Folks
This Is For You .
Johnny Thompson
Saturday Strings
Red Barber's Club-
house
Mary Lee Taylor
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
Meet the Meeks
Smilin' Ed McConnell
Movie Matinee
Teen Timer's Club
Abbott and Costello
Don Gardiner
Buddy Weed
Let's Pretend
Junior Miss
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Arthur Barriault
Campus Capers
Junior Junction
Theatre of Today
12:15
Public Affairs
12:30
Coffee With Congress
American Farmer
Stars Over Hollywood
12:45
This Week in Wash-
ington
1:00
Naf 1 Farm Home
Alan Lomax
Maggi McNellis,
Grand Central Sta.
1:15
Herb Sheldon
1:30
Edmond Tomlinson
Dance Orch.
Speaking of Songs
County Fair
1:45
Report From Europe
2:00
Music For The
Woody Herman's
Football
Give and Take
2:15
Moment
Orch.
2:30
Salute to Veterans
Sands For Bonds
Country Journal
2:45
3:00
Dance Orch.
Report from Overseas
3:15
Adventures in
Science
3:30
Local Programs
Sports Parade
ABC Symphony
Cross-Section U.S.A.
3:45
Orch.
4:00
Charlie Slocum
Stan Dougherty
4:15
Horse Race
4:30
Local Programs
Local Programs
4:45
First Church ot
Christ Science
Treasury Bandstand
5:00
Dizzy Dean Sports-
cast
Take A Number
Tea and Crumpets
5:15
Lassie Show
5:30
Dr. 1. Q. Jr.
True or False
Melodies to Remem-
ber
Dave Stephen's
Orch.
5:45
Dorothy Guldheim
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Peter Roberts
Art of Living
NBC Symphony
Dance Orchestra
Ernie Felice Quartet
Profits of Prayer
Harry Wismer
Jack Beall
News from Wash-
ington
Red Barber Sports
Show
Larry Lesueur
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Curtain Time
Hawaii Calls
What's the Name of
That Song
Challenge of the
Yukon
Famous Jury Trials
Saturday Night
Serenade
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:45
Life of Riley
Truth or Conse-
quences
Twenty Questions
Stop Me If You've
Heard This One
Ross Dolan,
Detective
The Amazing Mr.
Malone
Sing It Again
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Your Hit Parade
Can You Top This
Three For The
Money
Gang Busters
What's My Name
It Pays To Be
Ignorant
10:00
10:15
10:30
Kay Kyser
Grand OleOpry
Theater of the Air
Musical Etchings
Hayloft Hoedown
Let's Dance, America
DWIGHT WEIST— the host on We
The People, Tuesdays, 9:00 P.M., EST,
CBS is an actor who can write as well
as act. An alumni of Ohio Wesleyan,
he has turned out several scripts which
have been considered worthy enough
to be ^broadcast. And there's more
coming up, too. Dwight, his wife and
their two robust youngsters live in
Pelham, New York, where he practices
his favorite hobby — photography.
The General Electric Company is now busy pro-
ducing a new model electronic toy phonograph that
should be a boon to parents of record-conscious
children. The machine will play small children's
discs as well as standard 10-inch and 12-inch records
and comes in a metal case finished in blue, with
lithographed figures in white. The device measures
approximately 13 inches long, 9 inches wide and
5 inches high. It weighs only 6 pounds.
Weighing only 6 %
pounds, the Teletone
Model 185 portable
makes for easy toting
to your favorite foot-
ball stadium. This
little three-way set
comes in a plastic case
with a gold metal
grill and drop-door
front. Retail price is
about $27.95.
Teletone: light and handsome.
Becoming more and more available are record
plavers with two-speed motors, capable of playing
both standard records and the newly arrived LP
(long playing) records. Since it's a bit too soon
for comprehensive study and intelligent recommen-
dation, Radio Mirror suggests a listen and look-see
shopping tour. Basically, the LP records revolve at a
speed of 33 y3 revolutions per minute as against the
78 revolutions per minute of standard records. In
addition, the groove in which the needle rides is
much smaller. Result is best described by pointing
out that an eight-record album can be recorded on a
single LP disc.
Another new table
model television set
that combines AM and
FM radio with a 13-
channel video re-
ceiver is the Garod
model 900TV, which
will retail for $375
plus tax and installa-
tion. The 10-inch
direct-view set is fin-
ished in hand-rubbed
mahogany veneers.
Garod is also produc-
ing a similar set with
a 12-inch tube, which
will retail for $425
plus tax and installa-
tion.
$375 for Garod'a
10-inch direct view.
Beverly Smith, left, director of The Second Mrs. Burton, introduces as Family
Counselor the man who has made a hobby of hobbies: engineer Warren Morgan.
By
TERRY
BVRTOS
EVEN though I know many people are interested in
hobbies, I couldn't help but wonder how many
housewives have enough time to spare for them!
However, our next Family Counselor was Mr. Warren
F. Morgan, an engineer whose hobby is hobbies. He
very neatly set me straight.
He said: "A hobby can become a very important
part of a woman's life. You see, the main advantage of
a hobby is that, in addition to the real pleasure it can
bring you materially, it also adds a lot to your life." I
didn't quite follow this, and asked him to explain. "Well,
a hobby gives you a feeling of real accomplishment.
Take, for instance, dress designing — I know that's a
hobby of yours."
"Why, come to think of it, I guess it is a hobby!" I
agreed. "I know I do have fun planning clothes for
myself and my friends, and as a result of my hobby,
Stan added a new department in the store and it's al-
ready showing results — why, of course, that is a real
accomplishment."
"You see, Mrs. Burton, by taking up a hobby women
will find themselves to be more interesting people,"
Mr. Morgan continued. "A housewife with a variety of
hobbies, or one special hobby, keeps from falling into a
dull pattern. Because her curiosity is awakened, her
mind is active and her conversation becomes more
interesting."
*
"And besides," I reminded him, "you're always learn-
ing something new, for instance, a different way of
solving a tedious problem. And most important, a
hobby leads to new friendships, too."
"And I'd like to emphasize this point, Mrs. Burton,"
said Mr. Morgan. "Everybody's talking about brother-
hood these days. Well, I can't think of a more success-
ful example of brotherhood in action than a group of
people, or one or two people, working together with their
hobbies for their mutual advantage. That way, it's a
real give and take proposition. With a common interest,
every person is eager and ready to find out what the
others have discovered, and then apply it for them-
selves."
"How," I questioned, "does one go about finding or
developing a hobby?"
"You know, Mrs. Burton, most people really do have
hobbies, even if they don't recognize them. Anything
you do of your own free choice, for your own personal
pleasure and satisfaction, is a hobby. All you need
worry about is to be sure it's the way you most enjoy
having fun."
On the Family Counselor broadcasts, we want to dis-
cuss the problems that chiefly interest our audience.
What topic would you like to hear discussed by one of
our Family Counselors? Won't you send your suggestions
along to me in care of Radio Mirror?
Every « <:<ln<-«lny , The Second Mr». Burton is visited by on uuthority on Hint phaiw of women'iMirorld Interest. Through lhi» department, Terry
Burton ■hare* norne of these visits v»iib Ha.lio Mirror reader*. The Second Mrs. Burton Is heard Monday through Friday, 2 P. M. EST, CflS.
68
""?
HER FACE tells you
the charming story of herself
In Mrs. du Pont's lovely face you see
the true reflection of her lovely
inner-self. For her face shows you,
with its sparkle and beauty and
intelligence, what a completely
captivating woman lives back of it.
Does your face let the real You
come through — so that others see
you as you want to be? Your face is
the outer picture of your inner-self,
remember. And, it can be such a
delightful, enjoyable picture, if you
care enough to make it so.
ci/fe
udea
• I can't i
Her complexion has a beautifully cared-for look — fine in texture, clear. soft
imagine a finer face cream', Mrs. du Pont sap
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It is not vanity to develop the beaut]
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of confidence and happiness that wings
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the Inner You closer to others.
I
M
69
* * * * *
Don't be
Half-safe!
m
by
VALDA SHERMAN
I
M
70
At the first blush of womanhood many mys-
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There is nothing "wrong" with you. It's just
another sign you are now a woman, not a
girl ... so now you must keep yourself safe
with a truly effective underarm deodorant.
Two dangers— Underarm odor is a real handi-
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deodorant Arrid is made especially to over-
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48 hours and keeps you shower-bath fresh.
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against a second danger— perspiration stains.
Since physical exertion, embarrassment and
emotion can now cause your apocrine glands
to fairly gush perspiration, a dance, a date,
an embarrassing remark may easily make
you perspire and offend, or ruin a dress.
All deodorants are not alike — so remember
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* • • • *
Bride and Groom
(Continued from page 53)
we asked even more questions than
usual when we considered the applica-
tion of Mary Lesch and Ray Gilmore.
Surely Hollywood had played a leading
role in their real-life romance. It was
even the reason for their deciding on a
Bride and Groom wedding. As Ray ex-
plained, "When we think of marriage
in Hollywood, we think of your pro-
gram. Being on it would sort of com-
plete the picture; because all the rest
of our love story, including our first
meeting, has had a Hollywood setting."
After the board of judges, who select
each day's couple, had read that story,
they gave quick approval to the appear-
ance of Mary and Ray. "Theirs is a
Hollywood story, yes," one of the
judges said, "but it's also exactly the
type of story we always look for — the
story of a boy and girl who are truly in
love, and whose marriage would have
every chance of being a thing of lasting
happiness."
Their story started in a completely-
Hollywood setting — the Samuel Gold-
wyn Studios. Ray's work was in the
scenic department, while Mary was a
clerk-typist in the studio's story de-
partment. But a major picture studio
is a huge place, and the two might have
worked in their separate departments
for years without even seeing each
other. "Probably we should have an-
ticipated our meeting," Ray laughed.
"Mary told me later that the story de-
partment had thousands of plot-outlines
based on the idea that the right boy
always finds the right girl regardless of
circumstances. Judging by what hap-
pened, I think those scenario-writers
know what they're talking about!"
The first meeting took place the
morning that Mary went looking for her
boss, to deliver an important message.
Her search included a stop at Ray's
office, in a part of the studio where she
had never been before. "That was all
it took," said Ray, "just a few words of
strictly-business conversation to con-
vince me that that something mighty
important had happened into my life."
To make sure that it wasn't to end
with just those few words, Ray ap-
pointed himself Mary's guide for the
remainder of her search. They found
the missing boss finally, in a remote pro-
jection room, but by that time it was
lunch-hour. Starting with that noon,
the Studio Coffee Shop thereafter had
the same couple at the same little table
in the corner every day at lunchtime.
There were other dates, too — quiet
dinners at a famous little restaurant on
La Cienega . . . pre-showings or pre-
mieres of a Goldwyn production . . .
drives along the coast highway to near-
by Ventura. "When you finally meet
the right girl," Ray said, "it's as though
you've always known each other. We
hadn't put our feelings into words dur-
ing those first few months. It doesn't
always take words between people in
love, and I was certain that Mary and I
felt the same way about each other."
Then came a happening to shake that
certainty. A boyhood friend of Ray's
came to Hollywood on a visit from a
southern state. Knowing Hollywood
only through what he'd heard and read,
the friend had an exaggerated idea
about everyone connected in any way
with the movies. "I think he was dis-
appointed that I hadn't brought along
Lana Turner or Betty Grable to meet
him at the station," Ray laughed. "I
finally got that straightened out, but I
couldn't convince him that most of his
other ideas of Hollywood were just as
wrong."
For instance, when Ray got around to
the subject of Mary, the friend sort of
whistled and said, "A studio glamor gal!
Swell, long as you don't take her too
seriously."
"You bet she's a glamor gal," Ray re-
plied. "Just wait till you see her! But
you're wrong on the rest of it — and I
am taking her seriously."
Well, the friend really went to work
in earnest, bringing up every fable and
cliche that he'd ever read in a gossip
column. "Don't kid yourself — she's a
Hollywood gal, isn't she?" he asked.
"You meet her at the studio, have a
few dates with her, and then try to tell
me she's different. How do you know
she is — how do you know she isn't just
going along for the laughs? What makes
you think she's as serious as you say
you are?"
Ray laughed good-humoredly. "The
only thing wrong with you is that
you've read too many tabloids," he
chaffed. "You forget that ninety-nine
percent of Hollywood is made up of
people like Mary and me. People who
never make the headlines, who fall com-
pletely and seriously in love with just
one person, and who actually do get
married for keeps. But you've done me
a big favor by (Continued on page 72)
Women who listen regularly to "My True Story"
radio program give many reasons why it's their
favorite morning show. "It's so like real life" is
one of their main reasons. That, of course, is
because each complete drama, broadcast mornings
Monday through Friday, is based on a true life-
story, prepared in co-operation with the editors
of TRUE STORY magazine. You will be thrilled
and refreshed by this morning radio show that is
so different from the long drawn-out dramas of
fiction characters.
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(Continued from page 70) even bring-
ing it up."
"How do you mean?" the friend asked.
"Well," said Ray, "when you first
started talking, I thought 'I could sure
prove to you how serious Mary and I
are about each other, just by asking her
to set the wedding date.' And that's ex-
actly what I'm going to do tonight! Not
to prove anything to you, but because
there isn't any sense in our waiting any
longer, when we're this much in love."
"I hope you know what you're doing,"
the friend said doubtfully. "But from
what I've read about these Hollywood
glamor gals, particularly the ones work-
ing in studios . . ."
"From what you've read, you haven't
got the slightest idea of the truth!" Ray
exploded. "I'm going to prove it to you
by having you meet Mary tonight. But
you're leaving early," he added. "We
won't need any witness to what I'm
going to ask her later. Now come on, I've
got to pick out an engagement ring."
THAT night Ray was prouder than ever
as he introduced his friend to Mary.
She'll show him how completely wrong
he was about her, Ray thought. Even
the conversation seemed to be adding
proof that the only "Hollywood" part
of the romance was that it had happened
to take place in that town. For instance,
the subject of divorce came up, and
Mary mentioned casually that there had
never been a divorce in her family. Ray
glanced triumphantly at his friend. But
the friend seemed to have missed the
point. Instead, his face bore a sudden
odd look of disapproval, almost of pity,
as he sat watching Mary and Ray.
Mary left the room to bring refresh-
ments, and Ray leaned forward eagerly.
"What'd I tell you?" he asked his friend.
"You and your talk about 'Hollywood
types' ! Isn't she the kind of a girl I
said she was?"
Pity was more evident than ever in
his friend's glance, and he hesitated be-
fore saying slowly, "Ray, you told me
you'd never actually put your feeling
for her into words. Maybe it would
have been better if you had — you
wouldn't have built yourself up to this
let-down."
"What are you talking about?"
The friend's voice was reluctant. "Re-
member when she said there'd never
been a divorce in her family?" At Ray's
bewildered nod, the friend went on,
"She must have included herself in that.
When she comes back, look at the third
finger of her left hand!"
Ray tried to force a laugh at even
the thought, but just then Mary came
back into the room. For a moment Ray
looked into her eyes, then slowly his
gaze went to her left hand. There, on
the third finger, was a plain golden
band.
The friend, sensing the drama of the
moment, rose to leave, but Ray said,
"Wait for me outside. I . . . I'm not
going to stay, after all." And I, he
thought bitterly, was going to show him
that, even without words between us,
Mary and I had known all along the
way we felt about each other.
When the door closed behind the
friend, Mary faced Ray in bewilder-
ment. "Why aren't you going to stay?"
she asked. "I thought you said you
were going to ask me something impor-
tant tonight?"
"I was," Ray said quietly. "But I
didn't know until just now that I've
been taking too much for granted. I
should have said something before so
you could have set me right."
"Right about what, Ray?"
"About us. You see, I've been head
over heels in love with you. I thought
it was the same with you. Why, I
planned on asking you to marry me."
"But what happened to . . ." Mary
broke off suddenly, her eyes following
Ray's gaze at the ring on her finger.
"Ray!" she cried, her voice a mixture of
tears and laughter. "Do you mean it's
this ring? Look!"
She twisted the ring ar®und on her
finger. It wasn't a plain band of a
wedding ring — on the side that had been
hidden, the gold had been formed into
the design of a friendship-knot. "Ray,
I've worn this ring before, but right side
out! I've had it since another girl gave
it to me in high school. How could you
think that . . ."
She didn't get to finish the question.
Ray was already answering it — not with
words, but with his arms tightly around
her, and his lips on hers. Outside, his
friend paced impatiently back and forth
on the sidewalk. Why didn't Ray ac-
cept the truth, much as it might hurt
him? But suddenly the door was opened
and Ray was saying, "I have to find a
jeweler who can take the design off a
friendship-ring — Mary and I want to
use it for our wedding ring!"
At the time Ray and Mary came to
the Bride and Groom studio for their
first interview with us, they were no
longer with the Goldwyn Studios. But
Hollywood was very definitely still in
the picture. In fact, an even more fabu-
lous part of Hollywood, for Ray had be-
come the night manager of one of the
best-known places on Sunset Strip — the
famous Ciro's. Yes, there were all the
things you read about — the celebrities,
the limousines, the spotlights, the gay
parties where every guest was a front-
page personality. But there were also
Mary and Ray — a boy and a girl as sin-
cerely in love as any two sweethearts
in the smallest and least-glamorized
hamlet of the county.
IT was that very evident fact that
brought them in unanimous approval
of the Bride and Groom board of judges,
and that made them one of the best-
liked couples ever to appear on our
broadcasts. A personal - appearance
commitment had taken me out of town
that day, and Jack McElroy acted as
master-of-ceremonies. The owner and
"boss" of Ciro's, H. D. Hover, entered
into the broadcast picture, too — sharing
in the laughter that came when Jack
presented Ray with a set of boxing
gloves, explaining, "We want you to be
fully equipped for your work at Ciro's!"
The boxing gloves, of course, were
only a gag addition to the really valu-
able gifts presented to Mary and Ray
that afternoon — a gas range, a refriger-
ator, home-cleaning unit, furniture,
Gruen watches, silver, china, luggage,
and all the rest. High in importance was
the week's honeymoon at one of the
most unique resorts in America — the
Timberline Lodge in Oregon.
There was an added event awaiting
the newlyweds upon their return from
the Oregon honeymoon — an event
usually reserved for only the most
famous of Hollywood, an all-evening
party at fabulous Ciro's. The entire es-
tablishment was at their disposal, an
impressive list of motion-picture and
radio stars were included on the guest
list, and every minute of the evening
was in honor of Mary and Ray, Mr. and
Mrs. Gilmore. A Hollywood affair for
a Hollywood couple? No. A party
among friends for a boy and girl who
had become man and wife, because they
were truly in love.
It Happened on
Hint Hunt
(Continued from page 29)
me a check for whatever amount I'd
won?
Next day, Saturday, I received a tele-
phone call from Mr. Meyer. Would I
please remain at home on Monday and
would I please tune in on WTOP, Wash-
ington's outlet for the Hint Hunt pro-
gram? I assured him that both those
requests would be complied with.
On Monday, a bright, sunny day, the
routine of our little menage was com-
pletely off schedule. Son Andrew was
an absentee from school . . . and mother
decided to play hooky from the office.
At long last, four p.m came and, you
may be sure, my dial was set for WTOP.
Hint Hunt got under way and we lis-
tened avidly. Andrew, who had been
dashing in and out of the apartment,
knew what the score was but I was
blissfully unaware of the strange ac-
tivity going on in the basement of our
Lanier Place apartment house. My at-
tention was centered on every word and
inflection coming from master-of-cere-
monies Chuck Acree who interviews
housewives attending the broadcast in
Chicago. At 4:20 P.M. Chuck began
announcing winners . . . not winners of
cash prizes but of Ford sedans — five of
'em! At 4:23, I thrilled to the sound of
my name coming over the loudspeaker
— and then the program suddenly cut
off!
BUT only for the merest instant, where-
upon it resumed ... in a strangely
different way. It had a different quality
to it. A different voice was speaking. . . .
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your
WTOP announcer, Glenn Taylor, bring-
ing you a special broadcast from the
home of Mrs. Marjorie Copperthite,
Washington, D. C, winner of the Hint
Hunt jingle contest. We shall interview
the lucky lady directly from. . . ."
Mystified, I turned to mother, then to
Aunt Josephine and finally to a grinning
Andrew. Tnen the hall door of our
apartment burst open!
Into our living room walked a man . . .
WTOP's Glenn Taylor himself, talking
at a mile-a-minute clip into a portable
microphone! Only one step behind the
announcer was what appeared to be a
small army . . . reporters, both male and
female, frantically jotting down notes
. . . photographers busy flashing their
flashguns . . . miscellaneous people I
couldn't identify at all . . . and Mr.
Meyer, smiling broadly, this time.
What had happened was that WTOP
had cut away from the CBS network
hookup to pull this special stunt for
local listeners. Before I could catch my
breath, I was "on the air," being inter-
viewed. All Washington was listening
in while I, a dazed but happy woman,
mumbled answers to Mr. Taylor's ques-
tions. I found myself accepting the
bright shiny keys to a bright, shiny
automobile.
When Hint Hunt signed off, the re-
porters and photographers really went
to town. Firing a barrage of questions,
they hemmed me in on every side. Out
of that welter of impressions and chatter
I recall Mr. Meyer's pithy comment, to
wit: "Well, Mrs. Copperthite, it looks
like your jingle jangled to the tune of a
Ford sedan."
Someone else chimed in with, "She
still looks mighty skeptical. Let's take
her outside to see for herself."
With very little ceremony, I was
One Word Led to Another
f\ scrub and scrub, but
( I cant get rid of this
V TATTLE-TALE GRAY:
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wheeled out to the street and there,
sure enough, stood the brand new car
. . . beautiful, big as life and, well, quite
unreal. Even while feasting my eyes on
it, I knew it was destined to have an-
other owner very soon.
Later, after the small army had gone
and when the hubbub had subsided,
Andrew explained about the mysterious
activities that preceded the "invasion."
Roughly one hour before the Hint Hunt
program got started, a small but effi-
cient crew of WTOP technicians had
entered the basement of our apartment
building. They had set up their equip-
ment and were ready to join the big
broadcast at 4:20 P.M. Frankly, the
neatness and secrecy with which thoV
accomplished all that impressed me al-
most as much as the stroke of good luck
that came my way.
A few hours later, we made a deal
with one of the several dozen people
who telephoned to ask if I would sell
my new car. The money is already
being used for medical treatment. It
isn't nearly the amount needed to cover
all expenses but it will go a long way.
IN 1936, I was a healthy, normal
* woman, active in my secretarial job
with the Resettlement Administration,
then headed by Rexford Guy Tugwell.
It was interesting work. More impor-
tant, my income from it was the main
support of four-year-old Andrew and
myself for, at that time, my husband and
I had been separated. I'd been working
quite hard and looked forward eagerly
to that summer vacation. Especially
was I looking forward to the swimming.
Vacation time came and, with An-
drew, I visited my uncle's home in New-
port News, Virginia. Down there I
swapped the drive and tension of my
city routine for a lazy, sun-soaked holi-
day during which the most vigorous
activity indulged in was swimming . . .
and I couldn't get enough of that. It was
all quite perfect . . . until one day, toward
the end of my two weeks, I suddenly felt
horribly ill. Fever. Chills. Aches.
Weakness. It was frightening, mainly
because it was so unaccountable. A phy-
sician who was called in said my condi-
tion had something to do with a swollen
gland ... or vice versa, I'm not sure.
I returned to Washington and to my
job but, within a month, I was forced to
quit. My agony had increased to such a
degree that I was hospitalized. Special-
ists diagnosed my condition as hemo-
lytic-septicemia . . . the invasion and
persistence of pathogenic bacteria in the
bloodstream. In 1936, it was a disease
with a 99-percent mortality.
In that fierce early onslaught of the
illness, my temperature soared to 107
for hours at a time and it rarely dipped
below 103. For months I was kept under
opiates to deaden the pain. And, hemo-
lytic-septicemia being what it is, de-
struction of my red blood cells was go-
ing on at a furious rate. It was in that
period that relatives and friends do-
nated seven blood transfusions.
Considerable publicity was given late
that year to a serious strep throat condi-
tion suffered by Franklin D. Roosevelt,
Jr. More exactly, the publicity centered
on a new drug used by his doctors. It
was called prontolin-prontozol. In
desperation, my own physicians decided
to try it on me. The drug was very
scarce and there was much frantic tele-
phoning and dashing around Washing-
ton before some was located. At about
two o'clock in the morning mother
roused one pharmacy owner from bed,
dragged him down to his shop, obtained
the medical wonder and then raced back
to the hospital with it. It is the consen-
sus that prontolin-prontozol . . . original
of our present-day sulfa drugs . . . saved
me from joining the 99 percent.
But already the disease had brought
terrible havoc. With a silver spike
pierced through my ankle and rigged to
weights so that my limb and hip-joint
would maintain a certain position, I
spent eight months in Emergency Hos-
pital. Several times during that period,
bone surgery was performed, and the
doctors created artificial hip-joints be-
cause that portion of my bone structure
had already been invaded by the bac-
teria.
How did that bolt from the blue
strike? What brought on this crippling
disease? The doctors could give no con-
clusive reason nor could I explain it. I
recall having had no noticeable cut or
scratch. There had been no fall, no
bruise . . . and yet one of those things
must have happened because, somehow,
that malignant bacteria entered my
bloodstream and began its destructive
work.
I was bedridden for over eight years.
What sustained me, in addition to the
best medical skill obtained at great sac-
rifice, was the love and comfort of my
family . . . the knowledge that they were
always near, rooting for me to win.
Their presence, their infinite patience
and their loyalty was a constant re-
minder that, although a ruthless germ
was coursing through my system, I had
a heritage of finer stuff in my veins with
which to combat it. My ancestors came
to America in 1632. My granddad was
a drummer-boy with General Robert E.
Lee's Confederate Army and his own
brother fought under the Union flag.
You see, our little family inherits the
best that was in a bunch of Rebels and
Dam' Yankees.
Since advancing to the wheel-chair
phase of my life, these last two years,
I've been on a few auto rides and to a
few movies. It's my strapping boy who
lifts me into the car when some friend
or relative takes us for a drive. Andrew
is pretty solid for his sixteen years. He's
five feet, nine inches tall and he tips the
scale at 170 pounds . . . and it isn't
all brawn, either. He's regarded a
good student in high school. Just as I
used to be, Andrew is very fond of
swimming and all water sports. Like
me, he's a good speller and an avid fan
of every quiz and contest program.
{PARTICIPATE in many of those pro-
grams, too. Matching wits with all
those radio quiz-masters and contest
braintrusters takes care of a large size
of time that otherwise would weigh
heavily on me. Sometimes I draw a
blank and sometimes I win. One of my
trophies is a radio-phonograph com-
bination. Also I've won several albums
of records, two sets of aluminum
kitchenware (didn't they delight Aunt
Josephine!), two electric irons, com-
pacts, bracelets and (this one tested my
sense of humor) several pairs of nylons.
Winning all those things was fun.
What pleased me most was not the ma-
terial value they represent, but the feel-
ing they gave me that I'm able to com-
pete.
The material value of this Hint Hunt
windfall, though, is like icing on the
cake. I've had the thrill and the satis-
faction of being with the top winners
and, what's more, new frontiers of hope
have been opened with the money that
we're now using for further treatment.
It was wonderful being a car-owner
. . . but it'll be even more wonderful if
it helps me to become a pedestrian.
Masked Tenor
(Continued from page 25)
did some fast thinking. As it hap-
pened, a movie current then was "The
Man in the Iron Mask," starring Doug-
las Fairbanks. The sponsor of the pro-
gram was the maker of Silvertown
Cord tires. The announcer put these
two ideas together and produced Joe's
new trade-mark.
"Folks," he said, "the tenor you
have just heard is a man of mystery.
No one knows his name. He is the man
in the Silver Mask."
That's the way things happened in
radio, in the old days.
The combination of Joe's magnificent
voice and the mystery surrounding his
identity caught the listening public's
fancy, and in less than a week the
studio had received sixteen thousand
letters demanding to know the real
name of the Silver-Masked Tenor.
That was a big secret by then, though.
The sponsors, seeing the letters pour
in, had already bought Joe a silver
mask to wear and given him a contract
to sign.
IT couldn't have happened at a nicer
time. Joe had been married only a few
months before, to a blue-eyed dark-
haired Irish girl named Maureen
O'Byrne. When a man's newly mar-
ried, very much in love, and thinking
about starting a family, he wants some-
thing solid and substantial, like a con-
tract with a big sponsored radio
program.
Not that Joe had ever had any
doubts of his own ultimate success.
Singing had always been in his blood.
He was the fifth child of the White
family, and for generations back every
fifth child in each generation had been
gifted with a lovely voice. At the age
of eight he had made his first stage
appearance, as a child actor and singer
in "Checkers" with Thomas Ross, and
he'd been singing ever since — in vaude-
ville and minstrel shows, in New York
night spots, entertaining troops over-
seas during the first world war. He
had been a sergeant in the 27th Di-
vision of the AEF, had been wounded
in Flanders and sent to the hospital to
recover. Later on, he'd been blown
from an ammunition truck and bruised
his left leg, but that injury didn't seem
to be serious — not then. He forgot it
almost immediately, got back on his
truck and delivered the ammunition to
the front lines.
What with the weekly broadcasts
and concert appearances where lis-
teners flocked to see the Silver-
Maskd Tenor with their own eyes, Joe
rode the peak of success. He and
Maureen had their first child, Rose-
mary, and their second, Joseph, and
their third, who was named Graham
McNamee White, after Joe's very good
friend.
Then, imperceptibly at first, the tide
of success began to turn. The program
went off the air, and Joe was' without
a sponsor. NBC signed him up for a
number of sustaining programs, how-
ever, and concert engagements were
still easy to secure. He dropped the
disguise of the silver mask and began
singing under his own name. He kept
busy — not so prosperously as before,
perhaps, but busy enough to provide
for the family which had now been
increased by another child, Philip.
But the concert engagements became
fewer and fewer as the years went by.
One of his weekly sustaining pro-
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grams went off the air, and then an-
other. During the Silver Mask days,
Joe had written and introduced a num-
ber of songs, and now his royalties
from those songs, as they were played
on the air from time to time, became
a more important part of his income,
not the small change they had always
seemed until now.
Still, with unquenchable optimism,
Joe never worried. He had always
taken care of his family and he always
would. Two more children were born
—Bobby, • the fifth child, and little
Eileen, and Joe and Maureen were as
happy over their arrival as they had
been over the others'.
His years of singing had made of Joe
a walking encyclopedia of popular
music, and when the time came at last
that NBC, in its corporate wisdom,
decided it could no longer employ him
as a sustaining artist, it offered him
instead a job in the network's music
library. He accepted it, although it
meant that now he would be earning
in a week what once he had earned
in a day. He could do a good job in
the library, with his experience and
knowledge, and that was the impor-
tant thing as far as he was concerned
— to do a good job and be worth the
money he found in his pay envelope
every week.
Then, in 1943, as he was entering an
office building, he slipped on the highly
polished floor and fell, breaking his
left leg just below the hip. At the
hospital it was discovered that the
bone was diseased as a result of the
war-time injury, and that was why it
had broken. It was necessary to am-
putate the leg.
"It's funny," Joe told me during a
pause in rehearsals for We, the People.
"The reason I went into that office
building was to get a copy of 'The
Caissons Go Rolling Along.' I needed
it for a date I had to sing that Satur-
day at an American Legion banquet in
Brooklyn. And I could have picked up
a copy of the music at the NBC library
just as easily, but I never liked to
borrow NBC property — there was al-
ways the chance I'd lose the music
somewhere, or it would be torn or
something. Since I was passing the
publisher's during my lunch hour, I
thought I'd drop in and buy a copy
of my own. And the floor had just
been waxed, so — there I was, with a
broken leg."
His crutches were by his side, and as
he told me the story he reached down
and touched them, thoughtfully.
"It seemed like a cruel thing just
then," he said quietly. "But now I
know it wasn't an accident. Nothing
is an accident. Losing my leg was
something that had to happen."
In those first days in the hospital,
though, when the world held just one
fact for him — the fact that he now had
but one leg — in those days it wasn't
possible for Joe to accept his personal
tragedy with such serene philosophy.
He lay there, and he recalled the days
of his great success, knowing that they
were gone forever. Always before,
with the optimism of an Irishman and
a showman, he had been able to be-
lieve that some new success was just
around the corner for him. Now he
had no such illusions. He was a has-
been, a cripple, well into middle age,
useless.
It wasn't the money so much. He
had some savings, his song royalties
would continue coming in, and NBC
had already sent word that his job in
the music library was waiting for him
when he recovered. Financially, he
was in fairly good shape, all things
considered. But suddenly all the flavor
had gone out of life, and upon thinking
it over, he knew why.
His singing days were over, he be-
lieved. That was the reason.
He would be Joe White of the music
library, and that was all. "You re-
member Joe White," people would say.
"Used to have a beautiful voice, years
ago."
When Maureen came to see him, he
tried to be cheerful and happy, but she
knew what his thoughts were. With
the eyes of love, she looked at him and
saw that something had gone out of her
husband — some vital essence that was
nearly as important as life itself. Rid-
ing home to their house in .the Bronx,
she worried about him, and she went
into the dimly lighted church where
she and Joe had worshiped every Sun-
day for years, and whispered a prayer
to the Blessed Virgin.
Joe and Maureen believe — they know'
— that those prayers of hers were an-
swered. For one day Maureen took
little Bobby, who was then not quite
six, with her to visit Joe in the hos-
pital. Now, hospitals have rules
against allowing children to visit pa-
tients, but rules are made to be broken
when there is a reason.
"It will do him so much good," Mau-
reen pleaded with the nurse at the
desk. "I know it will. If you'll only
let me take Bobby in — just this once — "
The nurse listened, hesitated, and
Bobby tiptoed into his father's room,
awed and a little bit scared. But when
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Maureen said, "Now, Bobby. Go on,
sweetheart, sing the song we practiced"
— then his boyish soprano voice rang
out, high and true and sweet.
He sang "Ah, Sweet Mystery of
Life," and Joe lay there listening. The
boy wasn't trained — well, naturally,
nobody had thought of telling him how
to sing. It was something he had
picked up more or less by himself. But
he had the voice, Joe realized, the true
lyric sweetness. The fifth child of each
generation. . . .
"Well," he said when Bobby had
finished. "That's fine, son. Listen.
Can you do this?" He sang a bar of
the song himself, phrasing it different-
ly, more expertly. Bobby grinned, and
gave the music back to him just as he
had sung it.
JOE WHITE drew a deep breath, and
suddenly there were tears in his eyes.
It was true! Bobby had a voice, and
he had the singer's instincts. Joe's
career wasn't finished. It was begin-
ning again, through his son.
He reached out an arm and drew
Bobby close to him. "How'd you like
to have me teach you to sing, son?" he
asked. "Do you think that'd be fun?"
Silently, his eyes on Joe's face, the
child nodded.
Joe was right — it has been fun. It
has been more than fun; it has been a
new life for both the boy and the man.
Bobby took to singing as naturally as
a bird takes to flying. He soaked up
all of Joe's accumulated musical
knowledge and put it to use. In no
time at all he was appearing on Madge
Tucker's NBC children's programs,
singing at entertainments for wounded
veterans, for church affairs, for dis-
trict political rallies. And Joe has been
always at his side.
To see Joe now, you wouldn't suspect
that he had ever known despair. His
face is round and merry, and his laugh
rings out with unaffected merriment.
Two years ago he gave up his library
job at NBC to devote all his time to
teaching Bobby the art of fine singing.
Bobby is now ten, a dark-eyed,
brown-haired lad with his father's
round face and sturdy build. In the
last two years he has appeared on sev-
eral top radio programs, both singing
and acting. On the Fred Allen pro-
gram he has been heard ten times.
He's a real trouper, Joe says fondly.
He can eat any time, and he can sleep
any place. After an out-of-town sing-
ing engagement, he curls up in a bus or
train seat and falls asleep before the
journey is really started.
While he loves to sing, Bobby isn't
impressed with his own importance.
Joe and Maureen have seen to that.
Unlike many radio and stage children
in New York, he does not attend the
Professional Children's School. He
goes to St. Jerome's Parochial School,
where his average last term was 98.7
per cent, in spite of the fact that sing-
ing jobs had caused him to be absent
twenty days out of the three months.
Around a radio studio he's a joy —
friendly, polite, quiet, and invariably
on time for rehearsal. After all, Joe
is a real trouper too, and he has taught
Bobby everything he knows.
But I think that no matter how much
Joe does for Bobby — and it may well
be that he has already set his feet
firmly on the road to stardom — Joe
will always owe a greater debt to his
son. You should think so too, if you
could see Joe's face when Bobby starts
to sing — the pride in it, the happiness,
the thankfulness at having found a
new reason to live.
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77
That Man Named Moore
(Continued from page 27)
R
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sundry other- most peculiar articles.
He carted this collection of trash
into the audition studio, arranged it
around his chair, and sat down. "What,"
asked an attendant, "is all that? A
treasure hunt?"
"My props for the act," Garry said,
with dignity.
"So he thinks we got television aw-
ready," the attendant said.
It was a relatively simple idea. Garry
had recollected the then current feud
between Jack Benny and Allen on the
subject of Benny's rendition of Flight
of the Bumblebee, and this was a kind
of Rube Goldberg contraption to kill
the bee. You started by climbing the
stepladder, and followed a series of
outlandish happenstances until eventu-
ally the manhole cover fell on the bee,
demolishing it. Garry ad-libbed
throughout.
When the final crash came, at the
audition, the others present rolled on
the floor with laughter. Half an hour
later Garry had the guest spot on
Sunday's show.
It must be remembered that the dia-
logue accompanying the act was ad
lib. All of it. He went into his routine
at full speed, followed through to the
crashing climax, and waited confidently
for his laugh. There was only a be-
wildered silence in the audience. Then
with sudden shock he recalled that he
had omitted the key device that ex-
plained the entire sequence.
He was already on-stage for the sec-
ond show to the Coast, determined this
time to wow 'em, when he was mo-
tioned off from the wings. They had
been running over-time, he was told,
and Fred had decided to cut his act.
He talked with Allen afterward. "I
flopped, didn't J?" Garry said miser-
ably.-
"My boy," said Allen, "you didn't
just flop. You was bombed."
"You think I should go back to Balti-
more?"
"Did they hear you there tonight?"
Garry blushed. "I wired everybody
to listen."
"Then will they let you come back?"
"I think so."
"Go and learn your job," Fred said
kindly. "Come here in another two
years and we'll try it again."
Garry returned in two years, but not
to Fred Allen. He had tried his hand
at writing in the interim, and now had
agreed to collaborate with another
writer named F. Scott Fitzgerald
(Garry was not as well-read then as
he is now, and to him "Scotty" was
just someone who beat a typewriter
too and not one of the finest literary
minds of the generation) .
For seventeen months Garry and
Scott and Zelma, Fitzgerald's talented
wife, attempted to turn out a series
which was to be part serious work,
part nonsense. It was a hectic and
fruitless period. Fitzgerald's genius
had expressed itself at first in sound
hard work, then in terms of despair at
what he thought was his own inability
to put on paper what he felt and be-
lieved. In consequence he drank,
monumentally. Garry, whom Scott
grew to think of as the son he never
had, took care of his friend as best he
could, trying to understand when, after
ten hours work, Scott would throw the
entire script out the window, mutter,
"We'll start all over," and then pass
quietly out on the nearest couch or
bed.
Once, when they were in a cab in
Washington, D. C. — with Scott in his
usual condition — they passed the statue
of Francis Scott Key, who not only
wrote The Star Spangled Banner but
was an ancestor of whom Fitzgerald
was very proud. Scott shouted for the
cab to halt, then got out and hid under
a bush. "Run around behind him," he
told Garry, "and wave your handker-
chief to attract his attention while I go
past. I can't let the old boy see me in
this condition."
"The old boy is made out of bronze,"
Garry pointed out.
But Scott insisted. So while Garry
stood behind the statue, shouting and
waving his handkerchief, Fitzgerald
leaped into the cab and disappeared,
leaving Garry to elbow his way through
the crowds he had attracted. Old Mr.
Key stared imperturbably on into the
dawn's early light. . . .
It was at this point that Garry de-
cided there was not much future in his
collaborative arrangement with Scott.
He persuaded the Blue Network to
try the Club Matinee idea, and after
that went with Jimmy Durante, which
was the best thing that ever happened
to him. There had not been much
money, just professional satisfaction, in
the Club Matineee job; now there were
both. Garry, with his subtle humor
built on personality rather than on
gags, was to complement Durante's
Rendezvous for the
best in popular music
CLUB 15
Every Night, Monday
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EDT—
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BOB CROSBY
Singing
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• Margaret Whiting
• The Andrews Sisters
• Jerry Gray's orchestra
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purely gag stint. They made a perfect
pair.
After a time, however, Garry began
throwing in an occasional gag on his
own, to step up the tempo of laughter
and thus salve his ego: after all, they
chuckled with him, but they roared
with Durante. Later he started put-
ting in one gag for the audience for
every smooth bit of business he wrote
in for himself. Eventually, of course,
his part of the show consisted entirely
of gags.
It made him a little sad. But he had
married Nell by this time, and there
were Martin and Garry, Jr. to care for,
and money to consider. Lots of it.
But he promised himself something.
Someday, he said, someday I'll have a
show I can manage any way I like. And
when that day comes I'll do work again
that I'm proud of, something original
with me and not cribbed out of a riling
cabinet —
WHEN, finally, Durante accepted pic-
" ture commitments, and decided to
move his show to Hollywood, Garry said
to Nell, "Leave us face it, I can't see
sticking the kids and you and me into a
hotel suite for that length of time — we
can't get an apartment — so let's take a
house.
"Only," he added firmly, "we're not
going Hollywood. No mansion. And
positively no swimming pool, with a
Great Dane loping around it."
They found a sweet little place,
finally, with only four bedrooms and
four baths and a den and a few little
extras, and the swimming pool wasn't
very big.
On this last trip to New York he
spent a considerable amount of time
denying vehemently that he had a
swimming pool or a mauve Cadillac or
that he lunched daily at Romanoff's or
that his grounds swarmed with Great
Danes.
"Well, just one Great Dane," he ad-
mitted, "only I didn't know he was.
That is, I found him on a golf course
and he was just a starved mongrel-
looking pup, without his ears clipped.
But I took him to a vet for worm-shots
and the vet said he was a fine Dane."
As a matter of fact, he need not have
bothered reassuring anyone. Garry
Moore could no more go to Hollywood
than he could spread his arms and fly.
He is a shrewd, sensible, immensely
intelligent man with a lively awareness
of the ridiculous in himself and in
others. He has dreams and aspirations
far beyond those of other radio comedi-
ans, but he is also a good technician; if
the public doesn't like what he likes,
then he defers to the public, who after
all buy the products of the sponsors
who pay him his salary.
In hisj relaxing moments, which are
few enough, he has two passions: his
home and family, with whom he leads
an orderly and exceptionally normal
life, and jazz. He is a devotee not of
be-bop or the fad stuff, but of good,
solid, two-beat Dixieland, the kind he
spends hours listening to at Eddie Con-
don's in New York or at Billy Berg's on
the Coast.
Perhaps I should not have said "re-
laxing moments" because I have never
seen Garry more relaxed and happy
than he is when in the midst of work.
Perhaps that is why, when just recently
he began to check his fan mail for the
first time in years, he discovered to his
surprise that there was an awful lot of
it. If his shows turn out to be among
the best on the air, it won't be any-
body's fault but Garry's.
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^FORMATION
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FOR YOUR INFORMATION— If there's something you want to know about
radio, write to Information Booth, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42nd St., N. Y.
We'll answer if we can either in Information Booth or by mail — but be
sure to sign full name and address, and attach this box to your letter.
wamA
LUCILLE WALL
CONFUSED
Dear Editor:
Please tell me how
Lucille Wall, of Por-
tia Faces Life, re-
ceived her recent in-
jury that kept her
off the air so long.
Like all of her fans,
I missed her terribly
and was so inter-
ested in her com-
plete recovery. One
day the announcer
said she fell in her kitchen. But, according
to a Hollywood columnist, we were told
that Lucille was recuperating from a serious
auto accident. So you can see, I'm very
much confused. Won't you set me straight?
Mrs. J. E.
Jackson, Miss.
We'll be happy to. Lucille, who has
played the leading role in Portia Faces Life
ever since its premiere eight years ago,
suffered a skull fracture and a serious con-
cussion when she slipped against the open
door of her refrigerator in her Manhattan
apartment. This was in February; she re-
cuperated in California during the ensuing
three months. And while she was off the
air, Anne Seymour took over her role.
ALIAS POPSICLE PETE
Dear Editor:
Has Ben Cooper
left radio? I don't
seem to hear him
any more. As he
was one of my fa-
vorites, I hope he'll
be back soon.
Miss H. S.
Silbley, Iowa
Ben, who former-
ly played the part
of Brad on The
Second Mrs. Burton, has given up his
radio career to become Bob Feller's
Champion of American Youth. He will
help distribute the $100,000 Popsicle Youth
Awards to combat juvenile delinquency. To
avoid being called a publicity seeker, Ben
will drop his name and be known merely
as Popsicle Pete. Although only fourteen,
he can point with pride to his past theatri-
cal experience. He was practically reared
in "Life With Father" in which he began
at the age of eight, as Harlan, and grew
into the part of older brother Whitney.
During the three years he was in this show,
his hair was dyed carrot-red.
STILL ON THE AIR
Dear Editor:
I have lost track of three of my favorite
BEN COOPER
programs — can you tell me where to find
What's The Name of That Song, Strike It
Rich, and Leave It To The Girls?
Mrs. S. B.
Chicago 23, 111.
These three are
still on the air.
What's The Name
Of That Song is
broadcast on the
Mutual network
Sundays at 3:00
P.M. EST. And, in
answer to many
queries concerning
Dud Williamson, the
former M.C. of this BINNIE BARNES
show, he passed
away in May and was replaced by Bill
Guinn. Strike It Rich is heard Sunday
at 9:30 P.M. EST on the CBS network,
Todd Russell is the M.C. And on Friday
evenings at 8:30 P.M. EST tune in to
Leave It To The Girls on the Mutual net-
work. The panel is composed of Constance
Bennett, Robin Chandler and Binnie Barnes.
DON'S KID BROTHER
Dear Editor:
I've enjoyed Welcome Travelers for over
a year now, and so I've been particu-
larly interested in your articles written by
Tommy Bartlett. However, I'm very curious
about the announcer Jim Ameche. Is he
older or younger than his brother Don?
Miss A. R.
Bowling Green, Ohio
Jim, younger than
Don by five years,
owes much of his
success in radio to
big brother Don.
After graduating
from high school in
Kenosho, Wise, Jim
had thought little
about acting until
one day Don urged
him to try for an JIM AMECHE
audition. He tried,
he won, and he's been going strong since.
IN MOTION PICTURES, TOO.
Dear Editor:
I have listened to my favorite radio pro-
gram, My Friend Irma, and have enjoyed
it so much. However, I'd like to know
which part Leif Erikson plays, and wasn't
he in the movies?
Miss A. P.
Brooklyn, N. Y.
Leif plays the part of Richard Rhine-
lander, III, Jane's boyfriend. And, as
you've guessed, he was in motion pictures.
His last picture was "Arabian Nights."
OOTH
we'll try to find the answers
PLAYS BOTH ROLES
Dear Editor:
Just to settle a
little friendly argu-
ment, please tell me
if the actress who
plays the part of
Connie Wakefield
in The Right to
Happiness is the
same one who plays
Leslie Palmer in
Portia Faces Life. I LUISE BARKLIE
say it is the same
person, my friend says no. Who's right?
Louisville, Ky. . C.E.E.
It looks as though you're right as both
of these roles are played by Luise Barklie.
Luise, a native of Philadelphia, at first
intended to become a concert pianist until
she realized she could never become a first-
rate musician. Switching to dramatics, she
broke into radio via Helen Trent.
BUSY JUVENILE
Dear Editor:
Could you tell
me whether Anne
Francis, who was
featured on the
cover of Radio Mir-
ror (May 1947), is
making any pic-
tures or doing any
radio work now?
Mr. E. M.
Providence 5, R. I. ANNE FRANCIS
She certainly is, and modeling, besides.
That pretty girl on the cover of Junior
Bazaar, September issue, is none other
than Anne Francis. And you'll see her in
the motion picture, "Portrait of Jennie," in
which she has a small but effective role.
As if making pictures and modeling were
not enough, she seems to have time for
radio work, too, as she is frequently heard
on daytime serials, such as When a Girl
Marries and Portia Faces Life.
HOW HOOPER RATES THEM
Dear Editor:
Please tell me how the following pro-
grams rank as daytime programs: Front
Page Farrell, Just Plain Bill, Portia Faces
Life, When a Girl Marries, Backstage Wife,
and Young Widder Brown.
Miss M. D. E.
Six Miles, S. C.
According to the June 30th report of the
Hooper Survey of the top 10 daytime
serials, here's how the above serials rated:
Portia Faces Life was in third place, When
a Girl Marries and Backstage Wife tied for
fifth, trailed by Young Widder Brown. Way
behind in seventeenth and eighteenth places
were Front Page Farrell and Just Plain
Bill. You should bear in mind that by the
time you read this, the standing of these
serials may have changed considerably, as
popularity of each varies week to week.
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TRIUMPH
the Month
Dear Papa David:
Nobody loves a fat man, according
to the old saying. And the fat boy, tra-
ditionally jolly and good-natured, is the
natural butt for practical jokers. I
learned this early in school, where 1 was
at first inclined to resent such horseplay,
until I found that a fat sorehead is even
more ridiculous. With more or less re-
signed good grace I fell into the pre-
destined role of buffoon and class jester.
However, I will admit that I got a keen
personal satisfaction out of Sidney
Greenstreet's accomplished screen vil-
lainy and the fictional Nero Wolfe's
acute reasoning.
Things went along fairly smoothly
until my senior year in high school,
when a hot contest developed between
the fraternities and the independents
over class offices. Some joker started
an underground campaign which got
out of hand, and to everybody's surprise,
I was elected president on a write-in
ballot.
I was burned up over the deal, be-
cause I knew I never would have ob-
tained office legitimately. The rest of
the class was disconcerted to find the
class buffoon at its helm. When time
came for the acceptance speech, I out-
lined my proposed program. Then I
opened my heart and showed my true
feelings — for once. I pointed out that a
number of countries had got into serious
trouble by handling the ballot carelessly
and allowing clowns to come into power.
I told them I was hurt by their action,
because it had not been taken seriously.
Then I formally declined the post of
president.
Believe me, then and there I learned
that life can be beautiful. For that class
assembly turned around, renamed me
president by acclaim, and indicated
wholehearted support of the proposed
class program. And from that experi-
ence I learned that people will respect
sincerity, even when it comes from a
surprising source. D.K.
A STAR WILL SHINE
The len-dolla
follows
Dear Papa David:
Ever since I can remember we lived in
the same house, used the same old fur-
niture, and had the same yard, without
grass.
Now that I'm fourteen years old, I
understand that we are poor and we
can't have everything that we want. I
know that we have much more than
some people in this world. It makes life
feel beautiful to know that someday a
star will shine bright and stay bright.
And if your hopes are big enough, yobr
dream will come true.
D.W.
LIKE A PARTY!
Dear Papa David:
Rose and I were on our lunch hour.
We worked as stenographers in the
Railroad Superintendent's office.
As we entered the waiting room that
day our chatter were hushed when we
noticed a little old lady sound asleep
on one of the hard benches. Her thin
white hair was drawn to a small knot at
the back of her head. A light jacket was
spread over her shoulders. She wore a
faded cotton dress and her thin-soled
shoes looked as if they had been wet for
a long time. A small bundle of clothes
was placed under her head for a pillow,
and her blue veined hands clutched a
little old handbag. An old umbrella
without a handle leaned against the
seat.
"Is this what happens to some when
they are old?" we thought. Would we be
like that some day? We wanted to
help her.
We hurried on to Hattie, the negro
attendant, to ask for help. She had
been there a long time and we had
often heard of her good deeds. Hattie
went to the dining room for a box of
lunch and we started up town for
warm clothes. We went to a department
store where we had charge accounts
and soon found what we were looking
Ltfe Can Be Beautiful, written by Carl Bixby and Don Becker, is heard Mon.-Frl. on NBC at 12
for. A warm black coat, dress, purse,
scarf and underthings.
Rose and I took the new purse back
to our office and when we got through
with those seventy-five hard working
railroad clerks, dispatchers, truckers,
etc., the purse looked heavy and full.
Some of the passengers became in-
terested. One well dressed lady repacked
her suitcases and had one to spare for
the old lady. Another gave her an um-
brella and another a pin for the neat
dress.
Hattie and the women passengers took
over from there, as we girls had to get
back to work. They said it was like a
party when the old lady saw all the
new things. Hattie dressed her and took
her across the street for new shoes.
They had a hard time convincing the
old lady the money was hers! Rose and
I had one of the happiest days of our
lives.
Mrs. O. J. V.
INTEGRITY
Dear Papa David:
At the age of two, our sturdy, hand-
some son Don began to suffer attacks
of epilepsy, and for the next eight years
we tried every "cure" that came our
way. Finally a friend recommended a
chiropractor in whom she had great
faith, and he agreed to call at the
house in the evening and give treat-
ments at the boy's bedtime. He at least
was different from the others. He said:
"I may be able to help him. I'll try."
He came perhaps a dozen times, and
we used to sit around afterwards drink-
ing tea and talking. We wanted to pay
for the treatments as he gave them, but
it was always: "Wait awhile. We'll see
if he's better." Finally, and regretfully,
he gave up trying to cure the epilepsy,
and although he had helped Don's
nerves a great deal, he refused to take
a cent.
I am happy to say that now, at sixteen,
our boy seems to have quite outgrown
his trouble, but the only one in all the
hard years who didn't add to his fortune
through our misfortune was this one
chiropractor.
Dr. Y has been banished from the
Coast for years now, but I write him
and send a card at Christmas. He's a
Japanese.
Mrs. F. W.
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Somewhere in everyone's life is hidden a
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Food and Frolic
(Continued from page 63)
the cat. Using a tooth' pick to apply
melted chocolate, outline cat's head,
tail, legs and long whiskers.
HALLOWEEN PUNCH
!/2 pound dried I cup lemon juice
apricots I cup bottled apple
2 cups water juice
% cup honey 7 cups carbonated
I cup orange juice water
Orange slices
Lemon slices
Cook apricots in water until tender.
Press fruit and juice through sieve;
combine with honey and fruit juices.
Chill in refrigerator. Pour over ice
and add carbonated water; garnish
with orange and lemon slices. Serve
immediately. Makes 25 punch-cup
servings.
CHOCOLATE KISSES
2 egg whites
j/4 teaspoon cream of
tartar
pinch of salt
5 tablespoons sugar
5 tablespoons
chopped nuts
3 squares bitter
chocolate, melted
1/4 teaspoon vanilla
Beat egg whites until frothy. Add
cream of tartar and salt. Beat until
stiff, but not dry. Gradually add sugar,
one tablespoon at a time, sprinkling it
over top of egg whites. Gently fold in
nuts, chocolate and vanilla. Drop by
teaspoonsful onto a lightly greased
cookie sheet. Bake in a slow oven
(275°F.) for 20 to 25 minutes. Makes
2 dozen kisses.
HOT POT PIE
I pound ground
beef
I (II ounce) can
condensed tomato
soup
I teaspoon salt
'/t teaspoon pepper
I cup canned whole-
kernel corn
1 cup yellow corn-
meal
% teaspoon salt
2 cups boiling water
I onion, finely
chopped
I tablespoon chili
powder
74 cup whole ripe
olives (optional)
Stir cornmeal and salt into boiling
water. Cook, stirring constantly, until
thick, continue cooking over very low
heat 5 more minutes, stirring occasion-
ally. Spread two-thirds of the cooked
cornmeal over bottom and sides of a
deep baking dish. Mix together re-
maining ingredients and pour into dish.
Spread remaining cornmeal over the
top of the mixture. Bake in a mod-
erate oven (350°F.) la/2 hours. This will
make a complete supper if served with
a crisp Cross Bones Salad. Makes six
servings.
ORAN&E-BLACK LOAF CAKE
'/j cup shortening
1/2 teaspoon grated
lemon rind
2 teaspoons grated
orange rind
V2 cup sugar
2 eggs, unbeaten
I'/j cups sifted flour
2 teaspoons baking
powder
(/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons milk
'/2 cup corn syrup
Cream shortening; blend with rinds.
Add sugar gradually; beat vigorously;
add corn syrup, beating until light and
fluffy. Add eggs singly, beating well
after each addition. Stir in mixed and
sifted dry ingredients alternately with
milk. Pour into prepared 9" x 5" x 3"
loaf pan; bake in oven at 325°F. (low
temperature) about 1 hour and 20
minutes. Frost with package of pre-
pared fudge mix. Makes 1 loaf cake.
Irene Beasley
(Continued from page 33)
a point of dining together once a week,
going over the budget and setting up
any plans they can for entertaining
together. Anna runs the house to per-
fection and is frequently counselor as
well as home-maker.
"Stand up and tell them who you
are!" she admonishes.
Irene was born in Whitehaven, Ten-
nessee. The family moved to Amarillo,
Texas, when she was six. Her vaca-
tions were spent with her grandmother
in Plum Point, Mississippi, and her
earliest memories are of practising the
piano by the side of that grandmother
in her big shadowy parlor. As far back
as she can remember, music was her
great interest, and after graduation
from Sweet Briar College in Virginia
she wanted to teach it. Her first job
was a year of mentoring seven grades
in all subjects in a country school. Then
she won a post in the Memphis Junior
High School as instructor in music,
mathematics and business management
— subjects she was well qualified to
teach, as later events have shown.
Research into hill-billy melodies
brought her to the attention of Victor,
for whom she has made many re-
cordings. They brought her to New
York and radio engagements followed.
Grand Slam, the first radio show to
give the listener an equal chance with
the studio contestant, started in her sis-
ter's home in Connecticut as a piece of
fairly idle conversation.
"As a housewife and mother, you are
a pretty good critic of daytime shows,"
said Irene. "What do you think is
lacking?"
"Nothing is lacking," said her sister,
"but I do wish someone would give
listeners like me a chance to win
prizes."
Irene had no answer for that. But a
few days later when an agency called
and said, "Have you any ideas for a
new show?" Irene paused for only a
minute before she said, "I think maybe
I have a good one."
"Can you come over right now and
tell us about it?" said the agency. "We
need one right now."
Irene outlined what she had decided
to call "Musical Bazaar" on the way
over. The agency liked it enormously.
"Can you put the idea on paper so
that we can discuss it with the spon-
sor?" they said.
Irene wrote "Musical Bazaar" firmly
at the top of the paper and went on to
outline how five questions, submitted
by listeners all over the country, were
to be asked of a contestant in the studio.
For each question correcly answered,
a prize went to the contestant in the
studio. For each question missed, a
prize was to be mailed to the listener.
"And if all questions are answered or
missed, the winner gets a grand slam of
five. . . ."
Irene's pen stopped.
"Grand Slam!" she thought. "Best
show title I ever heard!" And Grand
Slam the show has been ever since.
Everything about the show fell into
happy order from the start, but not
without an heroic amount of work after
she had assembled her staff.
Actually, the first step had been
taken years before when Irene found
Bob Downey. She had gone with a
friend to Number One Fifth Avenue
to hear a singer, but as soon as the
accompanist started to play she knew
that she had found her pianist if he
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No Canadian or Foreign C. O. D't
was available. His style was perfect.
"What a musician . . . he's out of
this world!" she said, and went back
four times to hear him just for her own
pleasure before talking business.
Dwight Weist, who announces Grand
Slam, also announces We the People,
Inner Sanctum, Big Town, and Pathe
Newsreels. He was an equally happy
addition, as was Abe Goldman, the
organist. All three men are married,
all are congenial and so are their wives,
so Irene's group is close-knit socially
as well as professionally.
They worked, experimented, re-
hearsed and slaved like Trojans on the
new program all through the blistering
weeks of September, 1946. Then Irene
sent everybody away for a week's va-
cation.
"We've done all we can," she said.
"Let's have a rest and start fresh."
Since the material for Grand Slam
scripts must come from the listeners,
Irene's only worry was that the listener
response would not be sufficient to sup-
ply her with varied, lively and amusing
scripts. But that worry vanished in
the first week the program was aired
when an enthusiastic response from lis-
teners all over the country proved that
Irene had been correct in thinking that
the people at home wanted to par-
ticipate in radio games.
The response grew and grew and
Grand Slam became one of the favorite
shows on the air. In its first year it
managed to secure a place in the dis-
tinguished ranks of the top ten in day-
time radio while its companion shows
had careers of eight to ten or more
years on the air.
The handling of the mail is interest-
ing in itself. It is picked up from a
post-office box by a commercial mail-
handling firm. They sort it according
to date of postmark. This is because
in case of duplicate entries, the one
carrying the earlier date is the winner.
This company does the heavy labor of
slitting the envelopes and delivers them
otherwise untouched to Irene's office
where the staff goes to work, playing
Grand Slam themselves as they go
along. The judge who turns up the
greatest number of winning entries in
a week gets a cash prize.
Ideas are sorted according to subject,
and a good original idea is kept in the
permanent file until the right oppor-
tunity to use it comes along. Irene
has one of next Easter's ideas chosen
already from among suggestions that
came in too late last year.
The mail is full of surprises.
One letter was right to the point:
"Dear Mr. Slam — please give me any-
thing you have to give away, yours
truly."
Another letter of fulsome praise of
Irene, her voice and her personality
ended somewhat dismayingly, "Long
may your Slam-Bank Wave!"
Another letter contained a check for
$14,000! It had been put into the wrong
envelope by mistake, and no doubt a
Grand Slam entry was puzzling a bank
in Colorado.
Bills of lading for livestock, love
letters and once a note, explaining why
Johnny had not been at school on Tues-
day have turned up, but this is noth-
ing to the surprises that have turned
up on the show itself.
Sometimes the apparently most self-
possessed contestants get mike fright
the minute they are on the air and are
unable to make a sound. Irene is skill-
ful about getting them past this mo-
ment, but once she could not break
through. The contestant mumbled and
stuttered answers that were barely in-
telligible.
After the show she came up apolo-
getically.
"Know what's the matter with me?"
she said. "Left my teeth at home!"
A man broke up Irene and the audi-
ence coast to coast, too, with the way
he finished a poem. It was on a
Father's Day show, and Irene had
chosen a sentimental rhyme called
"Lines to an Absent Husband" for one
of the features. It went on about "no
shirts behind the door, no ashes on the
floor, no ring around the tub" and
ended,
"No matter if it's spic and span
Home's no fun without a man."
Irene read it with a lot of fine fervid
feeling right up to the last word — the
easy obvious rhyming "man" that the
contestant should have added. But he
had his own answer.
"Wonder Bread!" he cried triumph-
antly.
Even more of a surprise was the an-
swer of a little old lady who wanted
to play games according to her own
design. The problem was to supply last
words of lines from songs. Irene ex-
plained it carefully.
"Like the beat, beat, beat of the —
what?"
"Give me the music — I'll tell you the
title," said the contestant firmly.
"But this is different," Irene ex-
plained. "This time you fill in the last
word. Try this: Oh, what a beautiful
what?"
"Give me the music — I'll tell you the
title," said the contestant in the tone of
WOMAN'S FIRST RIGHT . . .
THE RIGHT TO HAPPINESS
it
it
Listen to Carolyn Cramer's courageous struggle for
security and peace of mind on "The Right To Happi-
ness," one woman's search for a richer, more meaningful
life.
TUNE* IN every afternoon Monday to Friday (3:45
EDT) on NBC stations.
«*..
If yon have overcome obstacles to your own happiness,
write Carolyn Cramer about it and you may win $50. For
details see the current issue of TRUE EXPERIENCES
magazine. Now at newsstands.
one arguing with an unreasonable child.
"Try this, then," said Irene, and in
her anxiety to get the idea across to
the little old lady she tilted the micro-
phone a little closer, smiling encourag-
ingly, "What is this thing called — ?"
"A mike — you know as well as I do,"
said the little old lady. "Give me the
music — I'll tell you the title."
The most disconcerting thing that
ever happened in the studio, however,
was when a particularly attractive
woman drew a winning number and,
when Irene asked her name, said, "This
will be a bigger surprise to you than
you realize. I am Mrs. " and she
gave the name of a man to whom Irene
had once been engaged.
"I drew a complete blank for a mo-
ment," said Irene. "When I came to I
heard myself saying to the audience.
'For goodness sake! She married the
man I was in love with!' "
Oddly, time and again it has beon
discovered that winners have received
their prizes at curiously appropriate
times. One man wrote that a grand
slam of gifts had arrived on his wed-
ding anniversary when he was out of
a job and had not been able to buy his
wife a remembrance. A widow wrote
that her winnings of a vacuum cleaner
and a set of club aluminum pans had
arrived the day before her daughter's
wedding, augmenting most happily the
very small gifts she had been able to
afford. And on many more occasions
than chance would seem to justify
visitors win at Irene's show and then go
on to win at every other show they
visit. They come back and tell her,
claiming that Grand Slam is blessed
with a little extra touch of luck.
Irene agrees — but only to a point.
Has she won a single grand slam at
bridge since the show started? Not she
— no time to play!
HERE'S the Swiss steak recipe that's
one of Anna's delectable specialties:
SWISS STEAK
Trim the edges of W2 lb. round steak.
Pound into both sides of the steak as
much flour as it will hold, using a
mallet or the side of a plate. 1 tsp. salt
and Vs tsp. of pepper should be com-
bined with the flour.
Heat in a heavy skillet a Vi cup of bacon
fat combined with V2 cup of chopped
onion. Brown the beef in the fat
quickly. Add 1% cups of canned to-
matoes, 1 stalk of celery, diced, 1 peeled
clove of garlic, diced; cover tightly and
bake in a slow oven of 275° for 2-2V2
hours or until tender. Uncover for last
half hour to thicken sauce. Thicken
gravy with flour if necessary. Remove
steak to hot platter and serve with
sauce over and around it. Serves 4.
Hi ,'JBjjl
Irene's Grand Slam studio audience
draws from all age groups.
where does ie go from Tiere ?
First Step? Not quite. For earliest spoon-feedings
baby sits in your lap. Often, the first foods after
milk are good-tasting Gerber's Cereals. Flavor and
texture favorites with thousands of tiny tots —
and toddlers.
Next Step! Doctors approve early introduction
of Gerber's Strained Vegetables, Fruits,
Meat -combinations, Meats and Desserts.
All prepared from the most carefully selected
ingredients. Tempting, nutritious Gerber's for
well- varied menus — are all ready to serve!
Then— baby gradually changes to
Gerber's Junior Foods. Same high quality!
Same size container— same low price! That
increases the variety of foods you can serve—
without increasing grocery bills!
"New/ Gerber's Meats
Beef, Veal, Liver. All-meat!
All luscious! Strained and
Junior — owe price!
erber's
BABY FOODS
FREMONT. MICH OAKLAND. CAL
3 Cereals * 20 Strained Foods • 15 Junior Foods
3 Strained Meats * 3 Junior Meats
87
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_Siate_
Memo To County Limerick
(Continued from page 39)
the thought, I rushed back to the cor-
ner drug store. I bought Dympna a
grand present at once — a Lucite brush
and comb set. But here is what was
funny: just as the present was being
wrapped, I caught sight of a familiar
face — my wife's! She too was Christ-
mas shopping in this drug store — buy-
ing my present. I peeked and saw that
it was one of those curious pens that
write under water. Then I quickly
sneaked out without her seeing me,
and I never admitted to her that I'd
seen my present before I should.
But you can see by this story how
confused a couple of young Irish peo-
ple can be in your country — when
we're driven to shopping in the near-
est pharmacy instead of your beautiful
big stores!
Right here, though, I would like to
stop and tell you something. Just be-
cause I am bewildered by your stores
and high buildings doesn't mean that
I'm an uncivilized sort of fellow who'd
never known anything before. I've dis-
covered that most Americans think a
pig goes with every kitchen in Ireland.
This isn't so. We have a few modern
conveniences in Ireland too, you know.
And we also have schools that really
educate you. Oh, we get along!
Take my case. I was born twenty-
six years ago in a big ten-room house
— not the mud hutch you people seem
to expect! — in the village of Rathkeale,
County Limerick, in Southern Ireland.
Supposedly, this house was once an
old inn where Sir Walter Raleigh
stayed the night. But whatever its
history, my father bought it many
years ago, and there lived my father,
my mother, and their six children, of
whom I was the youngest.
At home, my three sisters Alice, Sis-
sie, and Dimple did all the housework
— making beds, sweeping, and dish-
washing. We boys, John James, Frank
and I looked after the fourteen horses,
my father's pride! Father ran a stud
farm — breeding horses, you under-
stand— so the facts of life never had to
be explained to any of us! Let me add
with pride that one of our beautiful
horses, Pollyphayn, won first prize at
the Dublin Horse Show.
WE used to get up at 7: 30 in the morn-
ing, exercise the horses on a lead
in the ring, groom and feed them. Then
we'd walk the half-mile to the Rath-
keale school. At lunch-time, we'd nip
the bicycles ridden to school by the
country lads, and we'd ride home for
lunch and back again.
I must say I never cared for study-
ing, though I did manage to learn
Latin, French, and English composi-
tion— does this surprise you, in an
Irish school? And don't think the
Rathkeale school was small, either;
it had 1,000 pupils. What I liked a lot
more than my studies was playing
"hurling," which is like American ice
hockey only without the ice. But what
I really liked best were the evenings —
when all the Lynch family sang and
acted around the house like a troupe
of opera stars!
This was not at all unusual in Ire-
land. There every village has its local
concerts and drama clubs. In our vil-
lage, the Lynches were heavily dra-
matic— in one play, "Private Secretary,"
I remember that four of us Lynches,
acted parts. And at one time five of
us sang together in the church choir —
my big moment was when I sang the
solo of "Silent Night." And when we
weren't singing and acting in public,
we were doing it just for fun around
the house of an evening. Oh, we had
jolly times under the Lynch roof!
But that is just what I might still
be doing — if it hadn't been for your
movie actor Robert Taylor!
Yes, one of his movies was playing
in Limerick one night. I had gone
there — a green lad of twenty who had
never sung outside my own village
until then — to sing in the stage variety
show during the movie intermission.
Little did I know it, but sitting in the
audence that night were the O'Mara
brothers, Joseph and Alphonse. They
were the wealthy bacon and ham pack-
ers of Ireland, and they had come that
night to see the Robert Taylor movie.
But they saw me at the same time!
And fortunately for me, I seemed to
them somewhat like their uncle, the
great Irish tenor Joseph O'Mara.
Afterwards they came backstage to
see me. I'll never forget our conversa-
tion— it went something like this:
HAVE you ever studied singing, my
lad?" they asked.
"No, sirs," said I. "In fact, this is
the first time I have ever sung out-
side my own village of Rathkeale."
They conferred a minute, and then
they asked, "Would you like to go to
Dublin to seriously study voice? We
stand ready to pay for your lessons and
living expenses if you say yes."
"Yes," was what I answered im-
mediately, with my head in a whirl —
and you may possibly imagine the ex-
citement at home when I told the many
Lynches that I was off to the great city
of Dublin to start singing lessons!
I was soon there, and put to work
learning Italian and brushing up on
my French as well as taking voice les-
sons. My singing teacher was Dr.
Vincent O'Brien, who had been John
McCormack's teacher. After a year's
study, I gave my first public recital in
Dublin and then, wanting a vacation,
I went to the health resort of Lisdoon-
varna — and ran right into my future
wife!
That happened like this. My brother
John James had married a girl from
Lisdoonvarna; and there he had set-
tled to manage the sulfa wells — it is a
well-known spa in Ireland. So I went
to visit them. There I found that every
hotel has a dance every night (in Lis-
doonvarna, every house that takes pay-
ing guests is called a hotel) , and at my
first dance, my first night, I saw the
most beautiful girl I had ever seen in
my life. She was nineteen, brown-
haired, and her eyes were as dark as
her hair. Fortunately I knew her es-
cort. I rushed up to him, shook his
hand warmly, and naturally he had to
say, "Miss Dympna Daly, this is Mr.
Christopher Lynch."
Those were his last words to her —
he never saw her again! I swept her
away in the dance, and during my visit
at Lisdoonvarna I saw nobody else.
Together we danced the fox-trots and
the square dances, and we got to know
each other. I learned that she was
there because she too had a relative
engaged in the business there — her
aunt owned many hotels at the resort.
I also learned that she was as bright as
she was beautiful — she was studying
for a degree of philosophy at the Uni-
versity of Dublin. That meant, of
course, that when we both returned to
Dublin, we could continue seeing each
other!
That we certainly did, for the next
two years. We went to many movies
together, to the dog races, and in the
summer we went bathing at seaside
places.. On October 24, 1945, we were
married at the University Church in
Dublin. I had my brother John James
as best man, and for an usher my best
pal Jack Healy; and Dympna had her
three cousins as bridesmaids. Before
the ceremony we had a press reception
— for by this time I was a professional
singer, who had made several concert-
tours of Ireland — and after the cere-
mony we had a reception for Dympna's
relatives! Anyway, that's how it
seemed — dozens of her relatives col-
lected at the Chelbourne Hotel. After-
wards we went to Graystone's for our
honeymoon, a seaside resort near Dub-
lin. You can see why I think I'm the
luckiest Irishman who never kissed
the Blarney Stone!
But now I must go back a year to tell
you of yet another almighty piece of
luck.
It was in 1944 to be exact. After much
studying and concert-giving, one eve-
ning I gave a sherry party for the press
in Dublin. At it I was asked to sing;
and just before I began, I saw a man of
about sixty years enter the room. He
had one of the nqblest faces I had
ever seen, and a dark thatch of hair
that was gray at the temples. Of
course I knew him at once from pic-
tures of him I had seen — this was Ire-
land's greatest singer, John McCormack.
Right after he came in I sang Handel's
"Art Thou Troubled." Afterwards, to
my astonishment, Mr. McCormack un-
expectedly made a speech, saying that
I would be the tenor most likely to
succeed him. You can imagine my over-
whelming joy at such praise — and then
Mr. McCormack added to it by in-
viting me to his house to dinner the
following week. At that dinner, we
talked nothing but music, and he told
me many of his experiences. Later that
evening he made me an offer I shall
never forget — he offered to coach me in
singing. I thus became the only pupil
John McCormack ever had. And it
was due to this directly that I came to
America.
For one day, after I had been study-
ing with Mr. McCormack for a year
and a half, Time Magazine printed a
photograph of the two of us together.
Mr. Arthur Judson, president of Colum-
bia Concerts, saw that picture. He
immediately cabled Mr. McCormack
for information about me — and sud-
denly I found myself contracted by
your American Columbia Concerts and
by the Voice of Firestone Hour. Equal-
ly suddenly I was lifted from the quiet
village of Lahinch in County Clare
(where we were then living) to the
enormous skyscrapers of New York
City. I was literally lifted, too —
Dympna, our baby son Brian and I flew
to New York. The sudden transition
was, as I said before, almost too much
for us!
We were rushed from the airport to
a New York hotel. The minute we got
to our three-room suite, the telephone
rang and a voice said, "This is your
American cousin Joe Lynch." As I have
no relatives in America, this surprised
me. I told him we weren't related —
but soon the telephone rang again, and
a girl's voice told me she was my Amer-
ican cousin Susan Lynch. I would say
that about one hundred and fifty
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Lynches have called me since then, all
claiming to be a relative; — when none
are!
Now that we have a house in Amer-
ica our lives have fallen into a pattern.
Dympna and I are up about nine every
morning. I take a shower — singing my
pet shower song "The Old Turf Fire"
— and then eat the fine breakfast of
bacon and eggs that Dympna prepares.
After that I rehearse, usually drink-
ing Cokes and eating apples as I sing,
and often picking up the babies to sing
into their faces while they laugh at me.
After lunch I relax for awhile, and
then usually go into New York to study
voice with my teacher there, who is the
great old baritone Guiseppe de Luca.
When dinner is over — which is usually
steak and apple pie, or corned beef
and cabbage — I practice again. I have
heard that automobiles run better at
night. This is probably true — and cer-
tainly it is true that voices sing better
at night.
Before a concert, I never eat dinner.
Neither do I take throat lozenges. I
simply sit about quietly, resting my
voice. Dympna usually goes with me
to every radio broadcast, which I give
before an audience of 1,400 people. I
generally sing clinging to the music
rack in what must look like a very
awkward way — this is because I never
sang into a microphone until I came to
America, and I'm still afraid I might
miss a note! After the broadcasts,
Dympna and I usually eat dinner in
the city at O'Sullivan's Restaurant.
We lead very quiet lives, I suppose.
I don't drink or smoke, you see, and I
can't imagine going to a night club ex-
cept for once — then we went to hear
Milton Berle's comic routine.
I play golf whenever I can — although
we have a different method of scoring
in Ireland than you have — and I play
tennis occasionally, and badminton.
Also I spend hours in the garden, work-
ing with the plants. In the Spring, too,
you can count on my sitting behind a
fishing pole working on some trout.
And we Lynches have made a num-
ber of American plans. Two of them
are going to happen next year: we will
buy an automobile, and we will take
out our American citizenship papers.
Oh, yes — even if we've transported Ire-
land over to the U.S., we're really be-
coming quite, quite American!
IROUGH YOUR
COMMUNITY CHEST
Coast to Coast
(.Continued from page 19)
Susan Douglas is Jean Baker, next-
door-neighbor of Backstage Wife.
sets, is back on the Mutual network
with Tom Collins and Irene Tedrow in
the leading roles.
* * *
Songstress Julie Conway, now fea-
tured on the Musicomedy stanza, has
probably done more singing in the past
ten years than anyone else in the busi-
ness. She's sung at the Pump Room in
Chicago, with Kay Kyser on the air, in
the movies and in theaters from coast
to coast. But those stints do not com-
prise the greater part of her singing
activity. Miss Conway is perhaps the
leading interpreter of the singing com-
mercial. For example, in the past few
years she has been running from one
New York studio to another, five days
a week, from 10:30 A.M. until 11:30
P.M., employing her capable lungs on
"That new, new, NEW Oxydol
Sparkle!" Several afternoons a week
her schedule is so tight she has to
charter a cab and have elevators held
for her so she'll make her programs on
time. She's never been late, but she's
had a few close calls. Not satisfied
with all this and being married to an-
nouncer, Bob Sherry, and mothering a
three-year-old daughter, Miss Conway
is eager to become an actress, too. She
is studying theater technique with the
idea of some day combining musical
comedy and radio work.
* * *
GOSSIP AND STUFF FROM ALL
OVER . . . Wendell Niles and Bob
Hope's brother, Jack, have formed
Telepix Productions, and will work al-
most exclusively in 16 mm. film . . .
Veteran Hollywood picture producers
John Ford and Merian Cooper have
also formed a new television producing
firm . . . Myrna Loy may be the first
star to appear in a 52 week day drama
on television . . . Mutual's Sherlock
Holmes series has been renewed for
next season . . . It's rumored that Fred
Allen is dickering to get Arnold Stang
(Henry Morgan's hilarious Gerard) for
his Allen's Alley line-up . . . Lum 'n
Abner may do a recording of their
famous Christmas story, which, if done,
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pix. Mary Beth Hughes and Charles
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Traveler of the Month
(Continued from page 45)
Chinese medical association. This was
followed by an appointment as statisti-
cian for one of the United States gov-
ernment offices.
Here at last she was realizing her
double dream — to see the world and to
work at her profession as an accountant.
Her boss thought she was out of her
mind when she asked for a year's leave
of absence. He pointed out that she had
a fine salary doing work she liked, and
living in comparative luxury due to the
favorable rate of exchange between
American and Chinese dollars.
"I came to see China," Elsie stated
firmly, "and I want to go to the Yangtze
gorges."
The Yangtze gorges were 2500 miles
inland, and could be reached only by
boat. Her boss argued, then promised
he would get a leave for her next year.
"There won't be a next year," said
Elsie.
And she was right. China already was
in turmoil. By the time she had changed
boats three times and seen what she be-
lieves to be the most beautiful river
valley on the face of the earth, she was
not permitted to leave the tiny native
craft at Chungking. The communist re-
bellion had broken out. The next year,
the Japanese invaded.
UANGKOW, the Chicago of China, was
11 her next destination, and from there
she went to Peiping. As secretary to the
president of the College of Chinese
Studies, she was able both to attend
classes and earn a salary.
About that time, the remainder of the
one-way ticket to Manila, which had
brought her into the Orient, was about
to expire. She saw no reason for being
penalized ten per cent for cashing it, so
she booked passage.
Again, she arrived with the news. A
shipping strike held her up a month at
Hongkong — a month during which the
British colony seethed with the an-
nouncement that their King had abdi-
cated for "the woman he loved." To the
British subjects, it was more than the
loss of a monarch, it was the first crack
in the stability of the Empire. During
her wait, Elsie found work in a new field
— investigating the Chinese motion pic-
ture industry for the United States com-
mercial attache.
What she describes as "a slight affair
of the heart" brought her back to
Shanghai. She landed on Christmas Day,
1936, just as the news broke that his kid-
nappers had released Chiang Kai-shek.
Shanghai was her home, and the
Rockefeller Foundation her employer,
until August 13, 1937, when the Japs
bombed the city, and Elsie Voight found
herself in the international news dis-
patches.
"Just like you, Tommy, I take my jobs
seriously," she told me. "We were
warned to stay indoors. I started for the
office, feeling there must be some way I
could help. A sniper's bullet whizzed
past my head and killed the man behind
me. The story went out on the wires,
and my folks at home started to worry."
"You must have been scared," I said.
"That wasn't the narrowest escape,"
she replied.
It was fortunate her parents didn't
know that greater danger awaited her.
More than 400 women and children were
evacuated to Manila. Their small, over-
loaded boat nearly capsized. An hour
after they docked, the worst earthquake
in fifty years struck Manila.
Disregarding her own harrowing ex-
perience and the loss of all her posses-
sions, Elsie Voight pitched in to do what
she could as a Red Cross volunteer. Part
of that work was collecting stories from
the survivors for publication in a Manila
newspaper.
It was the editor of that paper who
found Elsie a post as secretary to the
president of the American Leprosy
Foundation, who was then on a tour of
inspection of leprosaria. They went to
Dutch East Indies, Singapore, Ceylon,
and to the International Leprosy Con-
ference at Cairo. Our modern, feminine
Marco Polo also saw Greece, Italy and
France, and had three dollars in her
pocket when she waved hello to the
Statue of Liberty in New York harbor.
But her contract with the Foundation
called for return to San Francisco. They
bought her first class and Pullman
tickets. Elsie exchanged them for coach
accommodations and had $70 when she
sighted the Golden Gate.
But in 1938 jobs were no more plenti-
ful than they had been in 1932. Our
traveler's want ad brought a single
reply from an author who offered her
$25 for typing a story — if he sold the
story. He did, however, tell a news-
paper editor about her. Her adventures,
as recounted in the Chronicle, caught
the attention of a talent scout for Edgar
Guest's "It Can Be Done" program.
They brought her to Chicago for the
show, and for a week, she lived luxur-
iously at the Drake Hotel with scarcely
a penny in her pocket. Again, she
cashed in her return ticket, and used the
money to visit New Orleans and points
of interest in the Southwest.
The next year she did her exploring
while working at the San Francisco ex-
position, where many of the interesting
things of the world were compressed
into the one huge fair. When it closed,
she toured Mexico for six weeks on $66,
saw the Florida boom as bookkeeper for
a swank hotel, was studying Spanish at
the University of Panama when the war
started, then traveled south to work for
a United States Military attache in
Peru.
\ YEAR of that job was enough. Elsie
rt set out to see Peru. Easy travel ended
abruptly when she found a jungle lay
between her and her next destination,
Pucallpa, the headwaters of the Ama-
zon river.
The only passage was via a trail which
later became Peru's Burma Road. There
was no transportation, so Elsie jettisoned
her luggage, packed an overnight case
with a paring knife and a few cans of
food, and started to walk. She was alone
until she encountered a missionary, also
bound for Pucallpa. Together, they
plunged through the dense growth for
three days and three nights. Beasts
cried in the darkness, huge snakes
slithered through the foliage. They told
her later she was the only white woman
ever to walk through that green horror.
Butj Elsie maintains she was not afraid.
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NAME
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CITY
ZONE STATE
Elsie sat out the rest of the war in
Chicago. When UNRRA formed she
shipped to China on a troopship with an
appointment as field auditor. She re-
gards it as a minor incident that one
plane on which she traveled was lost for
four hours with both radio and com-
pass dead before the pilot contrived an
emergency landing. Why talk about
that when, after all, nothing happened?
She returned on a Dutch ship via
South Africa, leaving the vessel at Dur-
ban to go overland. She fell in the
Zambesi River while viewing Victoria
Falls, severely injuring both legs, but
was able to rejoin the ship at Capetown.
Buenos Aires, Montevideo, Santos, Rio
de Janiero and Trinidad, were final
ports of call before reaching New York.
"What happens next?" I asked. With
this girl, there'd be no sitting at home,
resting!
"I hope to secure an appointment to
the Economic Cooperation Administra-
tion, Tommy. I would like to go to
Europe. I'd like to do what I can to
help the people."
She summed up her feeling toward
"the people" with the statement, "I like
the human race. People, individually,
have no animosity. Everyone I have
ever encountered has been a wonderful
human being. If only nations could find
the same way of getting along to-
gether. . . .
"It sustains my faith to realize that re-
gardless of what we foolish humans do,
the rhythm of the world goes on. Every-
where I have been, I have seen the sun
rise. When the darkness breaks and the
first rays come, I feel infinitesimal, yet
a part of the whole universe. Over the
chaos created by humans, there is a
stronger governing power which con-
trols that universe. Small as I am, I,
too, am ruled by it, and must do my part
for the welfare of human beings every-
where."
FOUND!
RAiNBOW'S END
Where hopes and wishes can come true
for lots of folks including you!
JZiAten to . . .
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Daytime — Monday through Friday
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Coast to Coast
in Television
(Continued from page 47)
famous party giver, writer, and friend
of socialites, celebrities and royalty,
will start her own television show very
shortly. While in Europe last summer,
Miss Maxwell made filmed interviews
with celebrities in London, Paris, and
Rome. These will start off her series,
and then the show will turn to her
fabulous parties; the scene will be her
own apartment in the Waldorf-Astoria
— as well as the homes of friends and
places of national interest. Rumor has
it that the show will carry a $5,000 per
price tag.
* * *
The major film companies in the
United States have been stalling about
getting into video with both feet, and
if they don't make up their minds soon,
England's J. Arthur Rank will beat
them to the punch. After two years of
test productions of telepix, Rank is
now ready to push off on a full com-
mercial program of television fare for
all parts of the world. He could invade
the U. S. market in nine or ten months.
* * *
Independent companies in Holly-
wood are on their toes as far as tele-
vision is concerned — far ahead of the
big studios, in fact. Cecil B. DeMille is
establishing his own company to pro-
duce video films. David O. Selznick.is
investigating possibilities for doing the
same thing, and Robert Productions —
owned jointly by Bob Roberts, John
Garfield, and Abraham Polonsky — are
in production with a series of 26 half-
hour films.
* * *
Texas is putting in its bid to take
some of the television monopoly away
from New York and Hollywood. Plans
are under way for a million-dollar film
and video center in San Antonio. Some
of the financing is coming from Holly-
wood, though.
* * *
Just when sales of sets are soaring
and advertisers are beginning to see the
terrific potentialities of the medium,
the industry is confronted with a short-
age of cathode ray tubes — those are the
tubes that make the television picture —
and current production can't keep up
with the demand.
* * *
The Republicans and Democrats will
each have spent a quarter of a million
dollars to televise their respective can-
didates before you go to the polls.
* * *
When audience participation radio
shows first became popular, the legiti-
mate theater was at a low ebb and it
was easy for the networks to buy up
theaters to conduct their radio pro-
grams in; now television is going to
need theaters for audience shows, but
the theaters simply are not available.
* * *
The big reason that more old movies
are not available to television is the
strong objections of re-issue companies
and theaters. Organizations like Film
Classics, Inc., buy up movies which the
major companies have no further use
for and rent them to motion picture
theaters which are devoted exclusively
to the showing of fairly old pictures.
This market is extremely lucrative, and
a one-shot on television could kill off
the value of an old picture — so it's easy
to understand why those distributors
and managers who have been waxing
fat want video to keep hands off.
I
Poor witness, Clara . . . Tears smeared her mascara . . .
...saySiT-TiWE
SOFT AND GENTLE...
STRONG AND ABSORBENT
©1948, Sitroux Inc.
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Life of Arthur Godfrey
{Continued from page 61)
of the chipping sparrow. His school-
ing in this nature-lore came, of course,
from his experiences down in Teter-
boro swamp.
Hasbrouck High, like every other
school, had its usual quota of students
who violated rules and regulations. It
is a matter of record that not once was
Arthur ever sent to the principal's of-
fice for discipline.
Notwithstanding that fact, Arthur
blandly remarked to his teacher one
day: "School's all right but it's the
principal of the thing I don't like."
Maybe it was a Godfrey pun and
maybe it was indicative of his inner
conflict, his growing hunger to realize
a life outside this environment. There
were other times when Arthur did and
said things that further revealed this
unrest. Talking to Miss Quigg, an-
other of his teachers, he once declared,
"I'd like to go out and see the world,
even if it's only through a porthole."
HE made that remark at a time when
colorful Navy recruiting posters
were pasted on almost every fence. The
Navy beckoned, offering the lure of ex-
citement, education and travel. To
Arthur, the world was a huge adventure
book whose pages were yet to be read.
Two of his four years at high school
remained uncompleted when certain
developments (what they were is
locked in Arthur's heart) crystallized
his decision to go out into the world.
A clue as to what prompted this de-
cision lies in something he said to close
friends with whom he stayed for a short
while.
"It's best that I get out on my own,"
he told them. "I can't continue to be
a burden to my family."
And so presently the world that was
a huge adventure book began to reveal
what was written on its pages. The
text, Arthur was soon to learn, made far
less glamorous reading than he had led
himself to expect. The text, for several
chapters, at least, was to contain some
tawdry, uninspired prose.
Bravely, with high purpose, Arthur
went out on his own. From shortly be-
fore Armistice Day, 1918, to the Spring
of 1920, his activities resembled that
crazy, zig-zag, in-again-out-again be-
havior of the steel ball in a pin-ball ma-
chine. His score was a fairly consis-
tent "tilt."
Office boy with a New York architect
. . . dishwasher . . . confrere of down-
and-outers, glad to cadge a night's sleep
in a newspaper warehouse . . . civilian
typist at an Army Separation Center in
New Jersey . . . pick-and-shovel man in
a Pennsylvania coal mine . . . would-be
lumberjack . . . farmhand . . . bum again
. . . tire-finisher in an Akron, Ohio tire
plant . . . dishwasher . . . gambling- joint
aide . . .
Confused . . . empty . . . without di-
rection . . .
Arthur must have done some
thorough soul-searching those nights.
Obviously, this wasn't what he'd
planned back there in Hasbrouck
Heights. This was aimless drifting.
But, what was it he wanted?
He knew. Deep inside himself, he
really knew. The thing he needed, the
thing that would banish these nocturnal
bouts with conscience was education —
training for some special field of en-
deavor— know-how that gave man a
sense of integrity and self-confidence.
The U. S. Navy gave him those things.
He walked into a Cleveland, Ohio, re-
cruiting office on May 11, 1920\ and got
them to sign him up for a two year
hitch. Apprentice Seaman Godfrey
went through boot training and spe-
cialist's training for radio. He crammed
a lot of other special know-how into
his head . . . enough to qualify him for
entrance into Annapolis. His impatience
for action, movement and color made
him choose, instead, a tour of duty
aboard the destroyer "Upshur" on
which he served as radio operator.
When his first hitch was up, he ex-
tended it for another two years, serving
as "Sparks" aboard the cruiser "Ro-
chester" and later on another destroyer,
the Hatfield. Action, movement and
color were his in large doses, for those
two ships were patrolling the Medi-
terranean, particularly the Archipelago
and waters of the Dodecanese Islands.
While Arthur's efficient hand pounded
out Morse code in the Hatfield's radio
shack, his glance could easily take in
the spectacle of night-sky glowing
blood red over the Turkish mainland
where Mustapha Kemal Pasha's troops
were busy driving the Greeks out of
Smyrna.
On a mild evening in the Spring of
1924, the quiet of Hasbrouck Heights
was broken by the pleasant plinkety-
plank of a banjo. Folks looked up from
their newspapers and knitting and saw
a gangling, red-headed gob sauntering
down their street. Here and there, a
fluttery-eyed flapper gasped, "Why, it's
Arthur!"
Yes, he was back . . . jaunty, sun-
tanned and the last word in sophistica-
tion as he strummed on that banjo.
It was good being back among friends.
An aura of glamor enveloped him as
he answered questions about his ad-
ventures in distant lands. And . . .
it was good to be with his family
again . . .
But before many weeks had passed,
the questions were asked less often and
life at home again brought into focus
his need for independence. Hasbrouck
Heights was home ... it was wonderful
. . . but it would never provide an an-
swer to his own burning question:
where and how could a guy make a
decent living?
THE middle 1920s had arrived. It was
a time when the miracle of mass pro-
duction was attracting men from every
corner of the country. The miracle, of
course, was happening in Detroit, and
Arthur yielded to the lure of five dol-
lars a day and maybe more.
He made the migration . . . found
work in the biggest automobile body
plant, an inferno of mechanistic sights,
ear-splitting sounds and lung-searing
acid smells. It was a pretty rotten con-
trast to the clean salty tang of ocean
and the neat line of horizon he'd en-
joyed these past few years. Arthur
stuck with it as long as he could, and
then . . .
Gratiot Avenue . . . Lower Woodward
. . . Jefferson Avenue — right down the
scale of Detroit's less desirable em-
ployment agencies. At last, a dog-
eared card thumb-tacked to one bulletin
board: "Dishwasher — Good Pay —
Meals."
Dishwasher in a greasy spoon. Pretty
deplorable, it was true, but Arthur was
eating regularly and, what's more, an
idea began revolving inside his noggin.
That short-order cook working behind
the counter, for instance. Now, what
did that character have that Arthur
didn't have? Just what kind of talent
did a guy need to make the kind of food
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they served in these "quickie" joints?
By a combination of salesmanship
and outright misrepresentation of the
facts, Arthur convinced the eatery
owner that he, Arthur, was really an
ace cook and that his talents were
shamefully wasted back there at the
sink. Result . . . Arthur began flip-
ping flapjacks, frying eggs and fouling
up filets like a veteran and at a raise
in pay!
None of the patrons got indigestion.
In fact, there were a few murmurs of
approval and, since Arthur happened
to overhear them, his ego swelled like
a ten-cent balloon. On his day off, he
went over to the personnel office of a
big chain restaurant. There, behaving
like Oscar of the Waldorf, he really
pulled out all the stops as he outlined
his cooking prowess. They hired him
on the spot.
Chef Godfrey reached the pinnacle
some months later. His self-esteem as
a skillet artist brought him to the
kitchen of Detroit's Book-Cadillac
Hotel. Not that Arthur just waltzed in.
On the contrary, he had to talk himself
blue in the face before that French
chef hired him — as vegetable peeler.
With the job, however, went a verbal
assurance of advancement. The chef
undoubtedly would have kept his word,
except that his untimely death inter-
vened. Arthur was left without an ally
in the Book^Cadillac kitchen. The
chef's successors proved to be down-
right unfriendly and so he quit . . .
a move for the best, it proved, because
presently he read a help-wanted ad
that led to more money than he ever
dreamed of earning.
It was money earned by way of
rather macabre method. The new job
was selling cemetery plots. His boss, a
high-pressure man from 'way back,
showed him every trick in the trade
and, in a matter of months, Arthur's
salary and commissions were awe-
inspiring. He had a bank-balance in
five figures, but he held on to it only
until he encountered someone who had
a sales technique just a shade smoother
than his own. That somebody was one
of Arthur's prospective customers for
a cemetery plot. Arthur never sold
him the plot but he did buy a half in-
terest and equal billing in the man's
vaudeville act! You see, Arthur still
had that banjo . . . and a strong yen
to make a pleasant plinkety-plank on
it, just as he'd done in amateur shows
aboard the U.S.S. Hatfield.
Vaudeville! Show business! It must
have seemed like a dazzling chance to
Arthur because he went for it to the
tune of his entire savings. The troupe
got bookings on a minor circuit . . .
got a rooking from unscrupulous house
managers who demanded kick-backs
. . . and Arthur got out at some whistle
stop in Wyoming, with a few months'
questionable experience, an utterly de-
flated wallet and a pawnticket for his
precious banjo.
He went on to the West Coast, only
to contend with Hollywood's colossal
indifference to his existence. He
bummed it once again and, by way of
the box-cars, arrived in Chicago. There,
he talked himself into a taxi-driving
job. Wising up to some of the "angles,"
he began making bigger money by
taking the night-shift ... by driving
pleasure-bent fares to places of amuse-
ment on the seamier side of town.
One night, a passenger turned out
to be one of his former shipmates,
now serving with the Coast Guard.
They celebrated their reunion . . .
they talked far into the dawn . . . and
Arthur was sold on the idea of joining
up.
In 1927, he served aboard the U. S.
Coast Guard destroyer Ammen.
In 1929 . . .
"Naval Research Laboratory, Belle-
vue, Anacostia, D. C. . . . June 7, 1929
... to A. M. Godfrey, Radioman first
class . . . Subject: Graduation from
Radio Material School. 1. The Director
takes pleasure in stating that you have
very commendably completed the
course of instruction in the tenth Radio
Material School . . ."
Even if you hadn't known a blessed
thing about his "very commendable"
graduation from radio school, you might
easily have guessed that Arthur's mo-
rale and spirits were sky high, the way
he plunked on that brand-new banjo of
his.
His outfit was stationed near Balti-
more, at the time, and some of his Coast
Guard pals urged him to take a crack
at a local broadcasting studio's amateur
contest. He went down to WFBR and
did his routine. The station manager
told him his singing wasn't half bad and
his speaking voice was slightly terrific.
Along with those comments went a job
offer.
That night and for many a night
thereafter, Arthur mulled it over. Staff
radio announcer. It sounded important,
exciting. If he clicked, it might prove
to be the best break that ever came his
way. Some of these radio guys made
fantastic money, he'd heard. He could
send a lot more dough home to the
family than his present $84 a month
permitted.
6ean,
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magazine ... on sale at newsstands now.
On the other hand, suppose he didn't
click . . .
Better take it slow. This Coast
Guard deal is going pretty smoothly
... a guy can advance himself. . . .
"United States Coast Guard — Dis-
charge— This is to certify that Arthur
Morton Godfrey has, this first day of
April, 1930, been discharged under hon-
orable conditions ... at his own request
and convenience. Character of service:
Excellent ..."
WFBR billed its new announcer as
"Red" Godfrey, The Warbling Banjoist.
A sponsor picked him up: The Triangle
Bird-Seed And Pet Shop. He got paid
peanuts but something told him: "Stick
with this thing."
He undertook every kind of studio
chore. Listeners, in and around Balti-
more, acquired the habit of tuning in
on Red Godfrey's Melodians. He did an-
other show called Morning Air Mail. A
rival Baltimore station carried Amos
'n' Andy at 7 to 7:15, leaving WFBR
with those fifteen minutes of minus-
zero time on its hands. Arthur con-
siderably raised the value of that
quarter-hour by broadcasting ukulele
lessons. He m.c.'d various musical pro-
grams, rounding them out with an oc-
casional baritone solo of his own.
OVER the year, he drew twelve thou-
sand fan letters!
They made him program director at
WFBR.
Washington's WRC had its spies out.
Their reports on this new carrot-
topped, banjo-plunking Baltimore ori-
ole evidently intrigued the WRC crowd.
He was summoned . . . and hired.
As of that day, Arthur's career
zoomed upward and onward in dazzling
style. He was like a man riding on a
comet and Washingtonians behaved
like people witnessing such a spectacle.
Although WRC, an affiliate of the Na-
tional Broadcasting Company, had
somewhat coyly kept him "under cover"
for two weeks, local newspaper colum-
nists were prompt in reacting to the
newcomer. Don Craig, of the Washing-
ton News, wrote that he "knows how
to sing, loves to act ... is a snappy an-
nouncer." Madeline Ensign, of the
Washington Herald, observed that "the
new redhead over WRC way ... is do-
ing a splendid job. He has all the
earmarks of a Graham McNamee-Ted
Husing in the making."
Arthur's Washington debut was made
on November 1, 1930. On a sunny Sat-
urday afternoon, ten months and
twenty-six days later, he was driving
his car northward along Chillum Road
in Maryland. Overhead, the Septem-
ber sky was a cloudless blue.
Sitting casually at the wheel, Arthur
hummed softly to himself and, every
now and then, grinned in a contented
sort of way. His thoughts purred in
harmony with the car's engine . . .
"Keep 'er rolling at a comfortable
forty-five . . . that'll get me to the air-
port in about half an hour . . . ah, me
. . . 'tis a lovely day ... a beautiful day
for a flying lesson . . . but then, it's a
beautiful world, as nobody can deny
. . . and, what's more, I'm sitting right
smack on top of it . . . looks like I've
clicked . . . got me doing half a dozen
different programs . . . four of 'em spon-
sored . . . feels good . . . mighty good,
after all that uncertainty . . . kind of
figure I've found myself at last . . . this
isn't just another job . . . looks like the
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sons . . . some day I'll fly a plane and,
by golly, some day I'll own one, too . . .
some day, I'll — That crazy dope! What's
he doing on this side of the road — !"
The big truck came head on, careen-
ing straight toward his car! No
escape. . . .
Crashing, blinding blackness!
At Takoma Park Sanitarium, they
tried to patch together his broken body.
There were lacerations to the left arm,
left hand, left leg and left side of the
head. There were a fractured pelvis,
dislocation of the right hip and frac-
tures of both knee caps. There were
weeks of stunned, pain-wracked silence
broken only by the hushed voices of
doctors and nurses.
A pall of gloom descended upon
Washington and its neighboring towns.
Thousands of telephone calls jammed
WRC's switchboard. Hundreds of tele-
grams and letters poured in . . . ex-
pressions of regret, some from "im-
portant" people, but mostly from just
plain Godfrey fans.
Hours, days, weeks . . . they drag
slowly in a hospital room. Bones and
tissues began knitting together. The
healing process was under way. Slowly,
he came up out of pain and shock . . .
into an awareness of the warm affec-
tion and concern expressed by his new
friends. He willed himself to recovery.
Four long months after the crash,
Arthur was at the WRC mike again
. . . and, by letters, postcards and tele-
phone, his unseen audience said
"Bravo!" The old redhead was back
and in the swing of things. True,
there was a slight difference ... he
had returned on crutches . . . but a
cane replaced them before very long
and in time even that ambulatory prop
went the way of all firewood. The re-
maining mark of his terrible accident
was a noticeable limp. Less obvious
... a nagging pain in his right hip . . .
that, and a nervous irritability com-
pletely new to his personality. These
after-effects bedevilled Arthur but he
did his level best to keep signs of them
hidden.
1932 and 1933 unwound their days
from the spool of time and, for The
Warbling Banjoist, virtually every one
of those days was marked by a stag-
gering schedule. He was heard over
WRC (then the Red Network affiliate)
and also, over WMAL (attached to The
Blue), both being Washington outlets
for their parent National Broadcasting
Company. Both outlets had studios
in the same building. Despite that fact,
Arthur had to hop around in lively
fashion to keep his program commit-
ments. A little master-of-ceremonies
activity in night clubs and on the stage
of RKO-Keith's theater didn't lessen
the work-load. You'd think he was a
network personality.
The blow-up came on January 2, 1934
... a day that began, as usual, at six
in the morning. Arthur did his WMAL
Breakfast Club broadcast until nine
and remained around the studio, on call,
until noon. He returned that after-
noon to announce the Farm and Home
program. Before filling that assign-
ment, though, he rehearsed with band-
leader Ben Bernie who, whenever per-
forming in Washington, requested the
redhead's services. Maestro Bernie's
broadcast went over the net that eve-
ning with a repeat broadcast for the
West Coast later on in the night. Scat-
tered between the highpoints of that
day's agenda were a few other sched-
uled programs that leaned on the God-
frey voice-magic.
Arthur got through the day. At mid-
night, knowing he'd reached some sort
of physical limit, he contacted WMAL's
station manager and advised him he
wouldn't, couldn't preside over next
morning's Breakfast Club. Arthur was
told that someone would pinch-hit for
him. He mumbled his thanks, crawled
home and slept. . . .
Slept well into the next day ... so
well, in fact, that he appeared at the
studio only minutes before his 5:15
broadcast. Arthur, serenely rested and
long familiar with the show's routine,
was all set to carry on in his usual un-
ruffled fashion. He made his entrance
in an atmosphere of clicking stop-
watches, scratching blue pencils, mut-
tered cuss -words and utter confusion.
Arthur's cheery "Hi'ya, people — " froze
on his lips. The freezing was done by
the station manager's frosty stare, or
rather glare. In strictly uncompli-
mentary terms, Arthur's lateness was
challenged. The tardy one retorted
angrily. There was an exchange of
insults. The manager shouted, "I don't
like your attitude!" Arthur shouted
back the well-known suggestion as to
what the station manager could do
with his job. Then he strode out . . .
into the January dusk.
He walked for hours. Now, an icy
blizzard pelted him. The heat of his
anger cooled considerably as he sat
hunched and weary on a park bench.
His thoughts became less chaotic and
more dismal as he appraised the situ-
ation. Great guns! Had he actually
quit? His mind's eye beheld a scene
of ruin and desolation. It viewed the
wreckage of his carefully-built career.
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He had let two minutes of uncontrolled
temper blast the edifice that he'd
erected these past few years. It didn't
seem possible. It didn't make sense.
His mind's eye beheld another image
. . . a girl's face. Only yesterday, the
merest glimpse of it would have caused
his heart to skip several beats . . . for
it was a lovely, radiant face crowned by
copper-gold hair and livened by a pair
of laughing blue eyes. Mary Bourke!
What would she think of him now?
What might he read in those beloved
features? Would he find sympathy . . .
understanding? Or would there be
mockery . . . cold disapproval of his
brash behavior? Wretchedly, he re-
alized he couldn't confront Mary until
something, someone extricated him
from this catastrophe.
He needed straightening out . . .
guidance. Arthur got to a telephone.
He called "Scoop" Russell, one of the
station's vice-presidents. "Scoop" was
a good egg . . . he'd have some ideas.
Russell listened sympathetically. He
advised Arthur to report in next morn-
ing and go through with the motions of
an apology to the station manager. Ar-
thur eagerly agreed to the plan and
carried it out promptly next morning.
The station manager primly shook
hands, said "Let's forget it" and added —
"but we no longer have a spot here for
you."
SO he was fired, anyway! Stunned,
Arthur stood there for a few tense
seconds. Then, in one pungent, ex-
plosive sentence that would have done
credit to any stevedore, he gave vent
to his withering opinion of the station
manager. With that, he turned and
made his final exit.
As he stormed out of the building, one
idea roared through his head. "I'm
through with radio! Through with it
for good!"
When Washingtonians failed to hear
Arthur Godfrey's voice three mornings
in a row, eyebrows began arching,
tongues began wagging and reporters
began snooping. The hue and cry was
on — "Where is Red Godfrey?"
Feature writers and columnists failed
to find him at NBC, at his home or at
any of his regular haunts. Grotesquely
garbled versions of his abrupt disap-
pearance from the air (and seemingly
from the earth) were printed in various
newspaper columns. A rash of letter-
writing took place. A small minority
hailed the redhead's downfall. A vast
pro-Godfrey majority expressed opin-
ions ranging from mild shock to strong
denunciation. One letter, with forty-
eight signatures attached to it, appeared
in the Washington Daily News. "We
have forcefully stated," it said, "that as
far as we are concerned, WMAL can
take a running jump off the old dock.
The officials may be big-shot business
men but we think they are a bunch of
punks."
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One man who had a hunch as to his
whereabouts was Harry Butcher, of
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that Arthur owned a half-interest in a
flying school. It was late at night but
the executive nailed Arthur at the air-
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were having drinks and discussion in
Butcher's apartment.
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siders let it be known that Harry-
Butcher had lured Arthur with superior
money and the promise of a completely
free hand regarding the running of his
two hour sunrise feature. Everyone
agreed it was a case of out of the frying
pan and into a bed of roses.
Only a few days after Arthur made
his bow at WJSV, he stepped into
Butcher's office.
"Harry, let's face it. I'm kind of
worried."
"Worried? About what?"
"Haven't you heard? WMAL is
bringing Don Douglas down to m.c. the
Breakfast Club."
"So what?"
"But, Harry, that guy's from New
York! He'll be terrific competition.
I've got to think of something — fast!"
Butcher shook his head, grinning.
"Arthur, almost every one of your for-
mer Breakfast Club sponsors has
changed over with you. And if you
want another sign of loyalty, take a
look at that mountain of mail. I don't
think you realize your own strength."
ARTHUR appeared not to be listening.
His blue eyes were narrowed, specu-
latively and mischievously. He snapped
his fingers and exclaimed, "I've got a
stunt that'll knock this Don Douglas
debut into a cocked hat!"
"Go ahead. I'm listening."
"My rival premieres next Friday.
Okay. On Friday, instead of starting
my program at seven, same time as his
Breakfast Club, suppose we beat them
to the punch by starting the Sun Dial
one minute after twelve. I mean broad-
cast from midnight until nine next
morning!"
Harry Butcher tapped a pencil
thoughtfully. "An all-night broadcast,"
he murmured. "Well, the stunt might
be good for a few lines of mention in
Variety."
Even radio executives can make un-
derstatements . . .
At one minute after midnight on the
morning of January 26, 1934, Red God-
frey sat shivering in the shack next to
WJSV's lonely transmitting tower far
outside of Washington. On the table at
which he sat were a thermos jug of hot
coffee, a few sandwiches, a tall stack
of popular records, a turn-table, a tele-
phone and a microphone.
A platter was spinning . . . "The
Carioca." Arthur had given it one of
his typically zany introductions. Now,
with the music under way, his thoughts
did a bit of spinning, too.
"Just a voice in the wilderness. Going
on the air in the dead of night. Bet
there isn't one radio turned on. I
ought to have my head examined — "
"The Carioca" came to a finish. Ar-
thur made with another informal in-
troduction. The next tune was "Stormy
Weather," but before its torchy lyrics
got going, Arthur invited "any of you
mugs to telephone in your requests."
"Yeah," he thought, "and maybe the
man in the moon'll phone in asking for
'On The Sunny Side Of The Street'.
Maybe — "
The telephone's sharp ring was so
sudden and loud that he nearly fell off
his chair. He picked up the receiver.
His caller was a listener from Maryland.
"Say! I could hear that telephone
ring over my loudspeaker!"
"Sure you could," Arthur answered.
"I have a live mike here. Can't switch
it off, so you'll hear everything that
goes on in this ice-box. What can I
do for you, m'friend?"
"Play 'There'll Be Some Changes
Made', will you, Red?"
ty!
fipuj
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"There'll Be Some Changes Made"!
He received that first request with
mixed feelings. It had the disturbing
flavor of prophecy in it.
But more calls came in ... an end-
less stream from almost every state in
the union! From Cuba . . . from Can-
ada. Night-shifters and insomniacs
everywhere were picking up Arthur's
nocturnal nonsense — because virtually
every other station had signed off.
WJSV had a clear channel.
Arthur sang, yawned, ad libbed and,
in general, outraged every rule of radio
decorum. He conducted a session of
broadcast buffoonery that kept his tele-
phone wire red hot.
Up until now, he was strictly a local
character. The comet he'd been riding
had been traversing an orbit 'round
and 'round the Washington scene. To-
night, however, curious magnetic forces
were at work. Tonight, the orbit of
his comet was destined for a spectacu-
lar change.
While Arthur shivered over that hot
mike, the magnetic forces were at work
200-odd miles to the north. Not at
work, really. Relaxing would be a
better word. They were lounging
around in a penthouse apartment on
Manhattan's Central Park West. The
magnetic forces were a collection of
some half-dozen of America's most
famous personalities . . . the brightest
constellations in the theatrical firma-
ment.
Their host, himself a star-maker,
went to his telephone and put through
a long distance call.
Down in the transmitter shack, Ar-
thur wearily picked up his telephone
receiver. The voice he heard was
crisp, staccato. "Hello, Godfrey? This
is Winchell!"
"Greetings, m'friend. This is Micky
Mouse." Fatigue and boredom were
evenly matched in Arthur's voice.
"Look, dope! This is Winchell! I've
been catching your broadcast here in
New York."
Arthur's disbelief bordered on rude-
ness. Desperately, his caller attempted
to convince him. In that famous
rata-tat-tat tempo, he began: "Good
evening, Mr. and Mrs. North and South
America, and all the ships at sea. This
is your reporter, Walter Winchell. Let's
go to press — !"
Arthur was convinced. "Gee, I
thought this was a gag. Mighty pleased
to meet you."
THE celebrated columnist voiced simi-
lar sentiments and then made a re-
quest ... a special one . . .
"Do you have any Ben Bernie records
handy?"
Arthur said he did.
"Swell. I wish you'd spin one that
has the Old Maestro doing a vocal.
Then, while it's on, I wish you'd start
needling him. You know, give him the
works."
"I get it," Arthur said, chuckling.
Like a million other people, he'd been
following the famous feud between
Winchell and the bandleader.
Sweet music from a Bernie disc went
over the air-waves. The Maestro's
softly whispered, half-spoken vocal
purred along with the melody. Every
time Bernie made with one of those
lingering pauses, Arthur's barrel voice
would break in with one of his rowdy
ad libbed remarks, completely blast-
ing the lyrics' sweet sentiment.
It was a howl. Telephone operators
all over the country were going frantic
in their attempts to put through calls,
but Arthur's single line was jammed.
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_A^a
It was an amusing gag, Arthur
thought. Nice of Winchell to ask him
in on it. What Arthur didn't know was
listening with Winchell in his New York
apartment were Ruth Etting, Jimmy
Cannon, Billy Rose, Mark Hellinger —
and Ben Bernie!
Another thing he didn't know: the
comet he'd been riding was at that
moment being guided from its narrow
orbit into a brilliant arc that would
soon flash across the national scene.
Within forty-eight hours, Walter
Winchell began beating the drum. Fol-
lowers of his column were reading:
"Among other buried personalities —
who belong in New York — is a stranger
to me named Arthur Godfrey. I got a
load of his stuff when he happened to
be on an all-night show the other night.
Godfrey is stuck down there across the
Potomac from the Capitol. But he is
big-time. His quips are sly — and his
fly-talk is terrifically Broadway or Big
Town. Some shrewd radio showman
should bag him for New York to make
our midnight programs breezier . . .
talent is at a premium ... I haven't
picked a flop yet."
Whoosh! In one stroke his name was
blazoned across the sky! They read
that name from California to Connecti-
cut . . . from The Great Lakes to the
Rio Grande.-
AT WJSV in Washington a yellow
snowstorm of telegrams descended on
Arthur. They came from "shnewd
radio showmen" who were scrambling
to climb on the Godfrey bandwagon.
Delighted but bewildered, he tele-
phoned Winchell whose advice was:
come up here and we'll sift through
every one of those offers. I'll be your
unofficial manager and tell you which
one is best.
In his column of February 8, Winchell
wrote: "Well, that's getting action —
and my thanks to those who think my
judgment is good. Arthur Godfrey,
the chap whose microphoning falls on
easy ears, has been signed by the Co-
lumbia Broadcasting Network. Arthur
commences on a coast-to-coast twice
weekly sometime next week . . ."
Local to network . . . dramatically
overnight . . . with all the spectacular
pyrotechnics of a fiery comet!
Fourteen fabulous years have passed
since that Winchell- blessed event.
Scarcely one year in the Big Time
would have passed if Arthur had been
a flash in the pan, a "phony." But then,
that gets right down to the root of the
matter. Once given the opportunity to
make his acquaintance, Americans have
completely accepted Arthur . . . partly
because of his droll way with a song
and a joke but mainly because of his
complete genuineness. It just happens
that he is the composite American . . .
the breezy, believable guy with whom
it's a pleasure to share a few minutes
or half hour of your time.
Launched into national fame by the
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become an amazing magnet ... a phe-
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infallible effectiveness, he goes to bat
for them at his CBS microphone for a
total of seventeen and a half hours each
week . . . and that staggering schedule
tees off at six o'clock in the morning,
five mornings each week.
Fourteen years have passed. For Ar-
thur, all fourteen have been wondrous
years, if only because he has shared
them with Mary Bourke, she of the
lovely, laughing blue eyes and the
radiant, copper-gold hair. Today, it is
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Mary Bourke Godfrey and she repre-
sents one third of his reason for rush-
ing homeward after his stint at the
CBS studio in New York. The other
two thirds? They are minx-eyed,
pixie-faced, five-year-old Patricia and
that miniature of Arthur, Mike, age
seven. Priceless possessions, those
three . . .
In the category of crass, material
possessions, Arthur has acquired much
. . . an 800-acre farm atop Catoctin
Mountain, near Leesburg, Virginia . . .
a magnificent home in the midst of its
lush acreage ... a stable of thorough-
bred steeds ... a sailing sloop or two
. . . a private plane or two . . a car
or two ... a penthouse apartment in
Manhattan ... a half dozen offices in
which to conduct his complex business
affairs ... a small army of assistants
headed by dependable Margaret "Mugs"
Richardson . . . and a host of friends.
As a rule, when a man is fortunate
enough to acquire such wonderful
things in that quantity, he consciously
or otherwise acquires a sort of slick
veneer . . . mannerisms and attitudes
usually identified with "the filthy rich."
Arthur has mannerisms — the kind that
put you completely at ease, as com-
pletely as if you were chatting with
your best pal. His attitudes? He's for
you one hundred percent providing
you're not a phony . . . providing you
believe a man should be judged on his
merit, not on background or bankbook.
And nobody in the business is quicker
than Arthur at spotting the phonies.
No "phony" cares to go back, either
actually or conversationally, to the
scene of his humble, almost impover-
ished childhood. Arthur hasn't forgotten
Hasbrouck Heights where, when he was
all of eleven years old, he knew the
want of a dollar and, knowing, went out
and worked for it. Call it nostalgia,
call it what you will, the place and its
people pull at him. His home town
crops up frequently in his random
reminiscences at the microphone. He
has mentioned the barn behind Ehler's
grocery store where he used to stable
Dobbin after a day's work. He has
mentioned old John Ferrari of the
Sweet Shoppe. He has mentioned (a
little wryly, perhaps) J. Earle Thom-
son, principal of Hasbrouck High. Don't,
by the way, let Arthur fool you when
he makes cracks about his former prin-
cipal. That happens to be a routine,
for there was never an unfriendly word
between them.
IT could be that there are more im-
pressive success stories than the one
belonging to Arthur, but it's a safe bet
that none of them has the pay-off that
goes with this one. The astoundingly
successful radio personality who is the
hero of this piece is the owner and pilot
of a private plane. Since he divides his
time between a Virginia farm and a
New York office skyscraper, he uses
said private plane for commuting to
and from these points . . .
At least once a week he lands it or
takes off at Teterboro Airport, down
the hill from Hasbrouck Heights. The
pay-off comes when you realize that
Teterboro is the exact, precise patch of
land where, thirty years ago, a red-
headed kid named Arthur Godfrey,
used to set his crude traps for muskrats,
on account of he didn't have the price
of that keen hunting rifle. It would al-
most seem as though there were more
than just the years — even thirty of them
— between those two human beings.
Well, there has been more — all those
years, plus Godfrey.
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1
EXPERIENCE IS THE BEST TEACHER
"J tried one brand after another until I found the
cigarette that suits me best— Camel," says Miss Kahane.
I"
• She's decorated Park
Avenue penthouses . . .
country kitchens . . .
ranch houses in Texas.
Here at the right you
see talented, charming
Melanie Kahane' in her
own Manhattan apart-
ment . . . enjoying her
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T for Throat...
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• With Melanie Kahane— with millions of other smokers
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Try Camels. Compare them in your "T-Zone"— T for
Taste and T for Throat— your own proving ground for
any cigarette. Let your taste tell you about Camel's
famous flavor. Let your throat tell you about Camel's
marvelous mildness. Let your own experience tell you
why more people are smoking Camels than ever before!
According to a Nationwide survey:
MORE DOCTORS SMOKE CAMELS
THAN ANY OTHER CIGARETTE
When 113,597 doctors from coast to coast — iu every field of medicine — were asked by three independent
research organizations to name the cigarette they smoked, more doctors named Camel than any other brand!
RADIO
MIRROR
JlIVJD TELEVISION
NOVEMBER • 25c
■HSU
Blondie — My Favorite Mother — page 40
Dagwood's House of Happiness — page 42
Come and visit ART LINK LET lE R
YOUNG WIDDER BROWN ,
n pictures
A Lovelier Skin is yours with
your First Cake of Camay!
You're as lovely as your complexion!
And your skin can grow in loveliness with
your first cake of Camay. Do this!
Give up careless cleansing— go on the
Camay Mild-Soap Diet. Doctors tested Camay
care on scores of women — found most
complexions grew softer and smoother with
just one cake of Camay! Follow the directions
on the wrapper for a really lovelier skin!
MEET MR. AND MRS. GAVERT!
Paul proposed in a tiny New York restau-
rant. No wonder! Christine's lovely com-
plexion calls for love! "My very first cake
of Camay led to a lovelier skin," says she.
The Gaverts have lots of mutual interests be-
sides music. And Paul takes a special in-
terest in Christine's complexion. She'll
stay on the Camay Mild-Soap Diet!
THE SOAP OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN
MRS. PAUL A. GAVERT
the former Chrittine Lindseth of Grand Rapids, Mich,
bridal portrait painted by
Heepcjour hmxk ei/etv'ng-soft all cku Ioiip'/a
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Trushay, you see, is first of all a velvet-
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Yet . . . Trushay's magic doesn't stop
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Smoothed on your hands before doing
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nornici op i>.iioi»il«l *W»-- ,B_
<**#
NOVEMBER, 1948
VOL. 30, NO. 6
RADIO
MIRROR
AND TELEVISION
KEYSTONE
"Colgate Dental Cream's active penetrating
foam gets into hidden crevices between teeth
— helps clean out decaying food particles —
stop stagnant saliva odors — remove the cause
of much bad breath. And Colgate's soft pol-
ishing agent cleans enamel thoroughly,
gently and safely!"
MTER-Thanks to Colgate Dental Cream
Alwayn ate COLGATE DENTAL CREAM
offer you eat and before every date
Radio Mirror Awards for 1948.
26
Behind My True Story 22
Grand Central Station ' 25
Our Boss, Joe Kelly by Rinny Templeton and Joel Kupperman 28
My Friend, Irma by Marie Wilson 30
Curtain At Nine by William Keighley 32
Your Ticket To The Jack Benny Show 34
Young Widder Brown — Through The Years In Pictures 36
Blondie — My Favorite Mother by Dorothy Grace Sparks 40
Dagwood's House Of Happiness by Arthur Lake 42
Traveler Of The Month by Tommy Bartlett 50
Come And Visit Art Linkletter by Polly Townsend 52
Bachelor Girl In Hollywood by Pauline Swanson 54
Facing The Music by Duke Ellington 10
Look At The Records by Joe Martin 12
What's New From Coast To Coast by Dale Banks 14
Collector's Corner by Sarah Yaughan 19
Inside Radio 66
It's Here
69
Information Booth 82
Head Start by Mary Jane Fulton
Between The Bookends by Ted Malone
It Might As Well Be Pretty by Kate Smith
Mother Of The Year by Terry Burton
Life Can Be Beautiful
Coast To Coast In Television.
WJZ-TV Lights Up
6
44
60
70
80
46
48
WTOP: Jokes Set To Music 4
WIBG: No News Is . . . ? ? ? 8
KDKA: King Of KDKA 16
WBEN: Ross Weller, Enthusiast Extraordinary 20
WNBT: Howdy Doody's Daddy 58
The Light In The Window — A Guiding Light Novelette
by Helen Christy Harris 62
ON THE COVER: Penny Singleton and Arthur Lake as The Bumsteds;
color portrait by Ozzie Sweet
Editorial Director
FRED B. SAMMIS
Editor
DORIS McFERRAN
Art Director
JACK ZASORIN
Managing Editor
EVELYN L. FIORE
Television
JOAN MURPHY LLOYD
Associate Art Director
FRANCES MALT
Research
TERC GOTO
Chicago Office: Editor, HELEN CAMBRIA BOLSTAD
Hollywood Office: Editor, ANN DAGGETT Managing Editor, FRANCES MORRIN
Staff Photographers, IIYMIE FINK, STERLING SMITH Assistant, BETTY JO RICE
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR, published monthly by MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS, INC., New York, N. V.
General Business, Bdltorlal anil Advertising olllees. 2<>r> East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Hollywood— Beverly
Hills Office: 021 S. Beverly Drive, lieverlv Hills, California. O. J. Elder. President: Harold Wise, Executive Vice
President: Herbert Drake, Vice President; Joseph Srhultz, Vice President: S. O. Shapiro, Vice President; Ernest V.
Heyn, Vice President; Meyer Dworkin, Secretary and Treasurer; Edward F. Lethen, Advertising Director. Chicago
Office: 224 North La Salle St., Leslie It. Cage. Mer. San Francisco Office: 1013 Russ Hulldlng, Jusepn M. Dooher,
Mgr Los Annies Office: Suite mm. 649 South Olive St., George Weatherby, Mgr. Charles o Terwlllfger, ,ir.. East.
cm Adverl Isliii: Manager, 2UI, Kast 12nil St.. New York 17, N. Y. Reentered as Second Class matter March I, 1048,
at the Post Office at New York, N. Y. under the Act of March 3, IH70. Subscription rates: U. S. and Possessions,
Canada and Newfoundland, *2.r»0 per year. All other countries $5.u() per year. Price per copy: 25c in the United
States and Canada. While Manuscripts, Photographs and Drawings are submitted at the owner's risk, every effort
will he made to return ttiose found unavailable if accompanied by sufficient first class postage and explicit name and
address. Contributors arc especially advised to be sure to retain copies of their contributions; otherwise they
are taking unnecessary risk. The contentH of this magazine may not be reprinted either wholly or In part without
permission.
(Member of Macfadden Women's Group)
Copyright, 1V48, by Macfadden Publications, Inc. All rights reserved under International Copvryrht Convention. All
rlghtH reserved under Pan-American Copyright Convention. Todos dcrechos reservados segun La Convenclon Pan-
amerlcana de Propledad Llteraria y Artisllca. Title trudemork registered In U. S. Patent Office.
Printed In V. S. A. by Art Color Printing Co.. Dunellen, N. J.
^cwiina tAewl tAic^h
THAT seal at the head of the column is
there to remind you that it's not all over
yet! You've voted, this month, for your
favorite radio personalities; next month
comes your chance to vote for your favorite
programs. Don't lie down on the job of
telling radio what you think of it — it's im-
portant to the industry to know what you
expect of it, and it's vital to you if you
want to get real entertainment from your
radio set! As soon as you get your Decem-
ber Radio Mirror, fill in that ballot, cut it
out, and send it in.
If you're a Duffy's Tavern customer — as
who isn't — there's a big surprise waiting
for you when we visit Ed Gardner. The man
who holds down the Tavern has a -family
life of his own that you'd never expect.
From the beautiful color portraits of his
French wife and his two delightful sons
right down to the stories of the dogs in his
life, this visit with Ed Gardner is one you'll
never forget.
To Candy Bergen, who's very, very young,
Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd
are dear old friends. That's all very well
for now, but — as you'll learn from Frances
(Mrs. Edgar) Bergen's lively story about
"EB and the Boys," there's a problem
coming up. What are they going to tell
Candy when she gets a little older and
wants to know why her playmates have
wooden heads? In fact, Frances herself is
sometimes a little confused — but not too
confused to realize that never was a fam-
ily more fun than the one that came with
Edgar.
ifi * *
Other features stud the December issue
like gems — a color spread on Don McNeill's
Breakfast Club; a unique side-glance at
Drew Pearson by a man who knows him
really well; a double-barreled chat with
Margaret and Barbara Whiting. For those
of you who are old friends of David
Harum, a special treat — a backward
glance, in pictures, over David Harum's
story from the time Aunt Polly came to
live with him. And once again — remember
the Awards ballot, in December Radio
Mirror, on sale November 10.
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MADE BY THE MAKERS OF FAMOUS WOODBURY FACIAL SOAP AND OTHER AIDS TO LOVELINESS
SET TO
When a WTOP comedian tells a joke, Johnny's piano
sneaks in, titters, chuckles and finally guffaws.
DOES a joke have a melody?
Johnny Salb says yes. And he proves it, to the
delight of Washington, D. C, listeners, on his various
appearances on WTOP broadcasts.
When a WTOP artist begins a joke, Salb's piano sneaks
in behind with a gentle riffle. As the pay-off line nears,
the piano chuckles. At the funny ending, the piano
laughs merrily. It's all the marvelous touch of Johnny
Salb, who finds melody in jokes.
"Every joke needs different music, different timing,"
Salb says. "Some are simple and outright. Others take
a subtle combination. Most jokes about farms, by the
way, are in the key of C, but don't ask me why. I just
feel it that way."
Handsome, gray-haired Johnny is piano player to
U. S. Presidents; song writer; and as much a part of
WTOP as the studios themselves. For 16 years he has
been musical mainstay of Columbia's 50,000 watt outlet
in the nation's capital.
He was a partner of Arthur Godfrey when that un-
predictable "man with the barefoot voice" was getting
his start at WTOP. From 1932 to 1946 Johnny and
Arthur clowned together on the air.
A native of Washington, Johnny has been composer,
arranger, band leader, and featured radio pianist and
organist. Local musicians will tell you that nobody can
ad-lib those heart-felt musical bridges during dramas
as well as organist Salb.
At a recent WTOP studio party an actor began to
ad-lib a burlesque on a daytime serial, taking all the
parts himself. Johnny quietly moved to the studio
Hammond organ and began to supply musical interludes
and background mood music.
Not a line or a note had been planned, but the act
kept the whole staff of sophisticated radio people laugh-
ing for fifteen minutes. Salb's intimate "feel" for the
hilarious story as it developed brought forth growling,
"Every joke needs different music, different timing," says
Johnny Salb, right. "Most farm jokes are in the key of C."
sobbing, wailing, and laughing music just as though the
whole thing had been rehearsed for days.
As one might expect, Salb is also a song writer. His
latest is "Why Do I Keep On Dreaming." He has had
six songs published within five years. He got a good
start in this work — years ago when he was starting
musical composition and arranging he was helped by a
man named Victor Herbert.
Johnny is no stranger at the White House. He has
played at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue for five presidents:
Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, and Roosevelt.
Off-mike, Johnny loves to fish, play poker, and watch
the horses run. A former baseball player, he was the
first man in organized baseball to score two home runs
in one inning.
3,
't is the party of the year . . . her
night-of-nights. Down below are dozens
of girls who will envy her looks . . .
dozens of men who will cut in endlessly
. . . and one in particular who will press
her close when the lights are low and
whisker Darling! . . . So she thinks.
Unfortunately, it isn t going to be that
way. 1 here s a fly in the ointment as big
as a blackbird. Instead of eagerness and attention she will
meet indifference and neglect. Tonight will be one of the
grimmest nights of her life . . . one tbat it will take a long
time to live down. And she won t know why !
All too often it happens that way; on the very nigbt
you wish to be at your best you may be at your worst
without realizing it. Unfortunately, halitosis (unpleasant
breath) doesn t always announce itself
to the victim, but it invariably shouts
its presence to others. I hey are likely
to hold it against you for a long time . . .
look on you as an objectionable person.
Isn't it ioolish to risk putting your-
self in the worst possible ligbt when
Listerine Antiseptic is such an easy,
cjuick and wholly delightful precaution
against simple, non-systemic bad breath? 1 on merely rinse
your mouth with it and instantly your breath becomes
sweeter, fresher, less likely to onend.
So . . . when you want to be at your best, never, never
omit Listerine Antiseptic belore any date ... it s an extra-
careful precaution against offending.
Lambert Pharmacal Company, St Louis, Missouri
1 99
You can
say "yes
to Romance
Veto says "no"
to Offending!
Veto says "no"- to perspiration
worry and odor! Soft as a caress . . .
exciting, new, Veto is Colgate's wonderful
cosmetic deodorant. Always creamy and
smooth, Veto is lovely to use, keeps you
lovely all day! Veto stops underarm odor
instantly, checks perspiration effectively.
Veto says "no"- to harming skin
and clothes! So effective .. .yet so
gentle — Colgate's Veto is harmless to nor-
mal skin. Harmless, too, even to filmy,
most fragile fabrics. For Veto alone con-
tains Duratex, Colgate's exclusive ingredi-
ent to make Veto safer. No other deodorant
can be like Veto!
Tit VS T ALWAYS
TO VETO
IF VOV VALVE
YOUR CUARlUt
«
~
i
By
Mary Jane Fulton
vf&iwe /Ae courage ^al/t/een ^okdel/ Aatf, cmd
c/tange fo a item /tafodo &e mcw, foe, wi// /coJc fowe/tek
FALL hair styles are very much in
the news. But Albert Attermeyer,
noted New York hairstylist, prefers
not to refer to them as "The New Look"
coiffures. That expression has been
popular in every phase of fashion for
a year now, and he thinks you may be
as tired of hearing it as he is. It has
had many interpretations. But orig-
inally it meant short hair arranged
toward the face and over the ears. How-
ever, along with other hairstylists, Al-
bert believes, and rightly so, that any
fashion is only becoming when it's
styled to the individual. With this opin-
ion one of his steady customers, Cath-
leen Cordell, heartily agrees.
Cathleen appears on countless radio
programs, among them Studio One,
Christopher Welles, Grand Central
Station, and Mr. Keen. Daily, she plays
Marion Burton on CBS's the Second
Mrs. Burton program.
In creating this pretty coiffure for
Cathleen, Albert shaped and thinned
her hair, shampooed it, and then gave
it a permanent. Her hair was in good
condition, so it did not need special
treatment. However, if yours needs ex-
tra attention to get it back to its right-
ful beauty, and to keep it beautiful,
brush it twice daily with a clean, stiff-
bristled brush. Massage your scalp with
your fingertips. Shampoo your hair
often. After rinsing the suds out of it
with warm water, give it a final cold
rinse to close the pores and stimulate
scalp circulation. Then use a cream
rinse, or if it's sun-streaked, a tint-
rinse to help cover up any discoloration
and to bring out the highlights.
In setting Cathleen's hair, Albert ar-
ranged the first forehead wave to ac-
cent her interesting "Widow's Peak."
When dry, this first wave was combed
up to give height to her face. The wave
is on a slant, and barely touches her
right temple. The very short part is
over her left temple, and camouflaged
or partly covered with one loose,
brushed out curl. On both sides the
ends have been brushed over the finger
so that there is a completely broken
circle of loose and casual looking short
curls. Her over-all coiffure combines
with her face outline, and the brushed
out "curl puffs" fall softly and becom-
ingly, and do not conform to a rigid
pattern. If your face is inclined to be
round, too, style it high in front as
Albert has done Cathleen's, and let
your hair caress your face on both
sides.
In the back, Cathleen's hair is shaped
in a simple, sleek, cap-fitting crown.
The hairline at the back fits into the
sides with the same loose, brushed out
curl arrangement. Hair that's been
shaped and thinned out, Albert says,
does not drag the curls down by its
weight.
Although he fashioned this particu-
lar hairdo for Cathleen, not being an
extreme style, many of you should be
able to wear it becomingly. And it has
a newer look than the old "new look."
RADIO MIRROR for BETTER LIVING
j
says AVA GARDNER.:
uy Powder wins with me^-
fhe smoothest; satiny finish my skin has ever known/
AVA GARDNER, co-starred In
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's "The Bribe",
is one of the many Hollywood beauties
who chose New Woodbury Powder.
ioda/ —
see the Pramatic 'PifPerence on your skin I
See for yourself that New Woodbury Powder
gives a smooth-as-satin finish to skin ( a finish
never possible with powder alone before! ) . . .
see that Woodbury covers tiny blemishes
amazingly., .yet gives the natural 'un-
powdery' look that you and Hollywood adore!
See that the colors are warmer, lovelier,
livelier! Truly, New Woodbury is the world's
finest face powder!
l**gi
In dramatic
Nation-Wide Test
WOODBURY
WINS 4 T0 1
over all leading
brands of powder
In the most extraordinary beauty test
ever made, women from Coast
to Coast voted their overwhelming
preference for New Woodbury
Powder. They chose Woodbunj over
their own favorite brands of
powder! Actually, Woodbury won
on an average of 4 to 1 over all
other leading brands. And women
said Woodbury was better for
every beauty quality!
-?
,\\*s
vde*
ss-**r
v^
6 exciting Shades! Get New
Woodbury Powder— in the new "Venus"
box— at any cosmetic counter. Large
size $1.00. Medium and "Purse" sizes
30tf and 15c. (Prices plus tax)
NO NEWS
is
• • •
? ? ?
Good news to Ray Walton
are the dispatches coming in
through the UP teletype
for the Newsreel of the Air.
NO NEWS is bad news to Ray Walton and Tom Moore of
WIBG in Philadelphia, and with good reason. Six nights
a week, from eleven to midnight, they're on the air for
Greystone Wines with a full hour of news.
Starting with a quarter hour of World and National events,
they follow that with a 15-minute period of local news, 15
minutes of sports, and a resume of the day's news highlights.
National and world news is invariably plentiful, making
the first 15 minutes of the show the easiest to compile. From
time to time a dearth -of local news has Walton, who does the
editing, calling Reading, Atlantic City and Harrisburg (all
in an area of interest to WIBG's listeners) for additional news.
During the baseball season, when an occasional rainout
across the country cancels out the major league ball games,
as well as outdoor midget racing and boxing bouts, the sports
section of the program becomes a problem.
Along with straight news, the program frequently features
material recorded during special events which take place in
Philadelphia during the day. Presidential addresses, regard-
less of where they are made, are always rebroadcast on the
Newsreel.
During the National Conventions in Philadelphia last
summer, Tom Moore spent all his time at Convention Hall,
recording every session of the meetings, and then, cut and
condensed that material to give Newsreel listeners a capsule
story of each day's important speeches and features.
The newscasters themselves are both War veterans. Walton
was a cadre-man on the big guns at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma
throughout the war, while Moore received the DFC and the
Air Medal for bombardier work over Germany.
Walton and Moore are both married and each is the father
of two children. There the similarity in their careers and
characters stops.
Walton, before coming into radio, was a musician and still
can do a good job with an organ, piano or accordion. He has
never, however, in his five years there, done a musical stint
on WIBG. His hobbies are music and traveling to any portion
of the state in which the bass are biting.
Moore began his radio career, while still in high school,
doing school broadcasts for WIBG, and upon graduation,
taking a full-time announcer's slot there. His entire radio
career has been with WIBG, except for some recruiting pro-
grams he did for the Army while in service.
Flying, which he learned while in service, has become his
hobby since returning to civilian life. It has served him well,
for he has been able to use it to cover news events from the
air. Moore never buys a newspaper while Walton says he does,
but for only one reason. He's "just gotta see what Terry and
the Pirates are doing."
Who says working for a living can't be fun? Not Tom
Moore, WIBG's roving reporter for the Newsreel of
the Air, here shown interviewing lovely Irene Dunne.
Are you in the know ?
Do you open bobby pins
with —
□ Your Fingernails
□ Your froni ieeth
□ Your left thumb
Why fight "bobbies" tooth and nail? Either
approach wrecks enamel. Instead, hold curl
with left fingers, bringing up pin with right
hand. Open pin with ball of left thumb;
keep apart with flesh of right finger . . . the
rest is easy. And by the way, why don't you
rest easy, concerning certain stubborn wor-
ries? Let Kotex rout those poise-wreckers!
— with the extra protection you get with
Kotex' exclusive safety center. It's accident
insurance !
Which improves
outsize ankles?
n Massage
□ Spike heels
□ Roller skating
What with longer skirts, all eyes are riveted
to your ankles! Got "steinway" stems?
Try this. First, cream hands and ankles.
Grasp instep firmly; rub up above ankle,
lifting hand between strokes. Faithful
massage helps relieve congestion— improve
circulation (and ankles, in time). However,
it takes no time at all to have the napkin
size you want. Quickly as you can say
"Kotex"— you can choose from those 3
Kotex sizes: find the very one for you.
When a gal's not "one of the gang"— why?
□ She's shy □ She's a glow worm □ She's a vacuum cleaner
Shyness is only one reason why a cutie's
out of the fun. She may be a glow worm
(self-centered). Or a vacuum cleaner (picks
up all the dirt). Any answer above can be
right. The cure? More interests! Learn to
get along with others. Good way's to join
a dramatic club. Be a good trouper, what-
ever the day — for Kotex is made to stay
soft while you wear it. Yes, new Kotex has
wonder-softness that holds its shape. Come
hours of rehearsals — you're chafe-free!
You're comfortable!
Afore ivo/ne/? c/?oose /COTEX
f/jan a// other san/fary na/?6/hs
If he's your guest,
what about tickets?
□ Buy them at the door
□ Buy fhem in advance
□ The boy should buy them
Could be he goes to a different school; or
lives in another town. In any case, when
gal invites guy, the shindig tickets are her
problem. Buy and hand 'em over in ad-
vance. Don't fluster him by fumbling at
the door. There's a way you can stay un-
flustered . . . even though your calendar
defies you. It's simply a matter of choosing
Kotex, knowing those flat pressed ends
prevent revealing outlines. So, relax. And
skylark through the dance in confidence!
Why does
a gal buy 2
sanitary belts ?
D For extra security
D For that "bandbox feeling"
O One belt's for her sister
Next time you're dressing for
a date -donning fresh undies,
a charming frock -you'll want
a change of sanitary belts. Yes,
for jhat crisp, "bandbox feel-
ing" you need two Kotex Sani-
tary Belts, for a change.
You know, the Kotex Belt is
made to lie flat, without twist-
ing or curling. And because
it's adjustable, all-elastic, your
Kotex Belt fits smoothly
doesn't bind. So -for more
comfort, buy the new Kotex
Sanitary Belt. And buy two-
for a change!
Kotex
Sanitary
& Buy tWO- by name!
T. M. REO . U. 8. PAT. OFF.
From the Jack Smiths' vacation album: a
Horace Heidi will never have to force 1-year-old Horace,
Jr., to practice his pieces! Hildegarde, who's 6, looks on.
cma
&
10
THAT great man of jazz, Louis "Satchmo"
Armstrong, seems to be ready to make
another trans-Atlantic trip shortly. Louis'
group did so well in France earlier this year
that all of the continent is begging to see and
hear them again.
* « »
Television got one of its first real tastes of
be-bop music when the Original Amateur Hour
on WABD presented a mechanic from Ho-
boken, New Jersey, who almost "stopped the
show." Chet Boswell, the amateur singer, was
quoted as saying that be-bop "Isn't corn like
Dixieland — it's long-hair jazz!"
* * *
They say that three is a lucky number and
it appears as though Lena Home's third waxing
for MGM will hit the jackpot. Her rendition
of "Sometimes I'm Happy" and "Mad, Mad,
Mad" is exciting enough to make this almost
as thrilling as listening to lovely Lena in person
at Monte Proser's Copacabana in New York,
where she is currently breaking the records
she established last year.
* * *
Good news for radio fans this month is the
return of Dinah Shore to the air as the co-star
of the Eddie Cantor show. It was with the
ebullient Cantor that Dinah got her first big
break years ago and the two work together
as smoothly as pancakes and syrup.
* * *
Young maestro Elliot Lawrence makes his
screen debut this month in . the latest of
Before dispersing to their separate rehearsals, Red
Skelton, Allan Jones, Margaret Whiting chat at CBS.
shot of perfect summertime ease on Catalina.
Percy Faith with Jane Froman on CBS Pause That Refreshes-
Jane without crutches for tee first time since plane crash.
By
DUKE
ELLINGTON
whose disc show is
heard on WOKO-
Albauy, WUSN-
Charleston. S. C,
WCMB-Lemoy«e,Pa.
Columbia Pictures' "Thrills Of Music" series.
"Five O'Clock Shadow," the number which
his band plays in this film, is one of Elliot's
original compositions, and quite a bouncy tune
it is.
Few sights in radio today are as thrilling as
that of spunky Jane Froman standing, un-
aided, at the microphone of her Sunday eve
Pause That Refreshes program (CBS).
Hollywood reports that one of the biggest
crowds in the history of Gilmore Stadium
turned out for the annual charity baseball
game between the teams captained by Frank
Sinatra and Andy Russell. Many of filmdom's
loveliest ladies, including Jane Russell, were
on hand to participate as bat-boys, umpires
and peanut vendors — but the fellow who al-
most stole the show with his spectacular work
in the field and at bat was Lionel Hampton,
stalwart of the Sinatra Swooners.
If you sense anything strange about the
Andrews Sisters since their return to Bob
Crosby's Club 15 (CBS, 7:30 P.M. Mon.-Fri.)
but can't quite put your finger on it, try
listening more carefully to their diction. After
a month in England, Patty, Maxene and
Laverne frequently drop their "aitches" while
quipping with Bob, and more than once throw
a "pip, pip" into their normally groovy patter.
New York's welcome to
hour was written on a e
and Dave Bar-
e House party.
11
u
N
■ .
<
There's Noth
Quite Li
1 ™
^3
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jy a iu v «
s»-+j ;3 3 3
I
M
12
News: a new Benny Goodman release.
By Joe Martin
DANCING OR LISTENING
JO STAFFORD (Capitol) — Superb orchestral backing enhances Miss Stafford's vocals
on "Baby, Won't You Please Come Home" and "Trouble In Mind." The former side is
the old standard which also features Nat Cole on piano, Ray Linn on trumpet and
Herbie Haymer on tenor sax, while the latter side is a fine blues tune.
MARION HUTTON (MGM) — Marion sings a couple of novelty tunes that sound as
though they were written for sister Betty. Replete with orchestral backing, calliope
and male chorus, "He Says, She Says" has a cute lyric. The reverse, "Borscht," done
in a slow bounce tempo is fine for dancing.
PHIL GREEN (London) — Some Richard Rodgers music that hasn't received the
attention it should have had is presented by the Phil Green Orchestra in a two-sided
instrumental version of "Slaughter On Tenth Avenue," originally written as dance
scene for Ray Bolger. The recurring theme would make for a fine ballad.
LENA HORNE '(MGM)— Lena sings "It's Mad, Mad, Mad" with great effectiveness and
feeling. Our preference, however, is for "Sometimes I'm Happy," the Vincent Youmans-
Irving Caeser song. Luther Henderson accompaniment is just fine, fine, fine.
ANNE SHELTON-SAM BROWNE (London)— This disc will certainly dispel any doubts
you may have had about the English being able to turn out "cornball" music in American
fashion. It's strictly a toss-up whether "The Law Is Comin' Fer Ya Paw" or "Say
Something Sweet To Your Sweetheart" will be the big hit of the season.
BENNY GOODMAN (Capitol) — Did you ever stop to think that Benny has never made
a bad record? Each of us may have opinions on specific BG discs, but there is no
variance about the general level of his work. Specifically, we think you'll like both
"Cherokee" and "Love Is Just Around The Corner." Featured with Benny are Red
Norvo, Don Lamond and Harry Babbison.
LOUIS PRIMA (RCA Victor) — Cathy Allen is a girl singer who should be getting
lots more attention from the public. Her version of "Bubble-Loo Bubble-Loo" is
second only to Peggy Lee's. Cathy's boss, Louis Prima, has a version of "The Sad Cowboy"
that is second to none.
REV. KELSEY AND LENA PHILLIPS (MGM)— The Reverend and his congregation
have recorded two portions of a prayer meeting that are fine down-to-earth bits of
American folkdom. Miss Phillips' singing of "Lord Send The Rain" is truly interesting.
DORIS DAY AND BUDDY CLARK (Columbia)— This combination seems to have
found the key to the public's heart. Their verson of "I'm In Love" is still in the
bright conversational style of singing. Doris sings "It's You Or No One" all by her
lonesome on the reverse side.
JOHNNY DESMOND (Columbia)— It's been some time since the phrase "G. I. Sinatra"
has been tossed about and we haven't been hearing enough of Johnny. There isn't one
single reason why you won't like "Bella Bella Marie" and "Lillette." The Dell Trio
supplies the backgrounds.
DEE PARKER (Mercury) — An instrumental group called the Miniatures surrounds Dee's
warbling with much nice noise. Dee does well, too. on "My Curly Headed Baby" and
"That's The Way He Does It."
ALBUM ARTISTRY
NURSERY RHYMES (Capitol) — Ken Carson's vocals to Billy May's music are combined
to make one of the best of the recent children's sets. Two records in an envelope that
also serves as a coloring book make an excellent package for the small small-fry.
LOUIS ARMSTRONG ALL STARS (RCA Victor)— The immortal and inimitable
Satchmo is heard at some of his most recent stylings of such old favorites as "Rockin'
Chair" and "Pennies From Heaven." Heavy support for Louis comes from Jack
Teagarden, and Peanuts Hucko, Bobby Hackett, Bob Haggert and George Wettling also
shine. This one is specially for the two-beat enthusiasts.
There was temptation
in her helpless silence
mm
&p*
a
ndtlaen
totioa
exit
WHEREVER motion pictures are shown "Johnny Belinda"
will be the most discussed drama this year —
Never has the screen been more fearlessly outspoken. Rarely, if
ever, has there been a story of a young girl's betrayal to touch you
as will this one. You certainly will want to see it— we urge you to
watch for the opening date.
WARNER BROS.
present a daring and courageous new dramatic achievement
JANE WYMAN • TEW AYRES
P^ With t-hivL nprfnrniflnrp .Tnnp WumaTl ^™^ Thp rlnrfnr -first tn find her Kpn'or.
With this performance Jane Wyman
unquestionably establishes her talent as among
the very foremost on the screen.
The doctor first to find her secret,
first to share her shame.
<:< y
ohnny Belinda"
CHARLES BICKFORD
DIRECTED BY
AGNES MOOREHEAD- STEPHEN McNALLY- JEAN NEGULESCO
Sewn Pl« by IRMGMtO VON CUBE ind ALLEN VINCENT • From lh« Sum PUi br Elmef H«rrl« • PTrtucxl or Hinr WijlUfI Srittk
PRODUCED BY
JERRY WALD
■•K C7 MM STElNtt
13
Spotlight Revue's summer maestro, Dick Jurgens,
(r.) and singer Georgia Gibbs, start Betty Ann Ber-
esheim and Ted Hubert, Miami teenagers, on week-
end in New York as Spotlight Revue's guests.
From Atlanta came winners Margaret Nelson and
Allan Haller, with chaperone Celestine Sibley.
I
M
14
By
DALE
BANKS
Memphis winners Earl Cunningham Jr., and Martha
Kenlcy drew actor John Lund as lunch companion.
New York al their feet: the Memphis pair again
ALL SUMMER long there has been much
coming and going on the Spotlight Revue,
. heard Fridays at 10:30 P.M. EST, on CBS,
as the weekly Junior Achievement winners came
along on the holiday weekends they'd won. In
cooperation with civic groups all over the
country, the Spotlight's sponsors worked out a
contest which was won, each week, by a pair
of enterprising teen-agers on the basis of the
community work they'd been doing. Adequately
chaperoned, they were brought here from their
home towns, appeared on the program with
Spotlight's summertime maestro, Dick Jurgens,
lunched at Sardi's, dined at the Stork, and in
general had the kind of sight-seeing, star-gazing
weekend New York is famous for. On these two
pages you'll meet some of these fortunate
couples, and see some of the things they did.
This was a summer at Spotlight Revue!
* * *
At the time of this writing, agents and agency
people are bickering and dickering over the
return of the Johnny Ma'dero show. Some want
Brian Donlevy for the lead role, others want
Jack Webb, who originated the character, to
continue in the part. Personally, we hope they
make up their collective minds. The Johnny
Madero script always greatly pleased this pair
of ears and, leave us face it, this head, too. It
was a sure proof that there's a listening audience
for adult shows and that people can follow
dialogue that's not corny and contains a few
grown-up ideas.
* * *
Penny Singleton (need we say "Blondie"?)
has been optioned by a nationally-known pub-
lishing company to submit a book of recipes
surveying the town from the Empire State tower.
titled "Dagwood's Favorite Recipes." And we
always thought those monster sandwiches were
a gag and would choke anyone who tried them!
Congratulations to CBS for winning Norman
Corwin back into the ra-dio fold for another of
his series. Rumor had it, for awhile there, that
Corwin was forsaking the air lanes for the
lucrative movie world.
* g 4c
In case you haven't spotted it yet, a new
magazine hits the stands this October. It's built
around the radio show, Bride and Groom and,
at this writing, is titled Happy Marriage. There's
a $50,000 prize contest connected with its in-
auguration. The plans are to have about one
sixth of the magazine devoted to the radio
program it's built around and the rest will
carry fiction and articles of interest to young
homemakers.
* * *
Alan Young has a rather unusual contract
with the Jimmy Durante show. As a rule, when
you are signed by a big time program like that,
they buy your exclusive services. Young's con-
tract gives him the privilege of having his own
show, as well.
* * *
We hear that NBC is set on a deal with Liberty
Magazine whereby the network buys the video
rights to stories and features which have ap-
peared in the magazine.
* * *
We hear that Chet Lauck is back in the horse
racing game again. He'd given up his stables
some time ago, after running into a streak of
very bad luck. But the urge to race is too
strong, now Chet has (Continued on page 18)
It was Chinatown that drew Texas winners Floyd
Eberhard and Delores Douglas on their weekend.
Dorothea Lensch chaperones Elaine Humburg and
Richard Hammond, of Portland. Ore., on Fifth Ave.
15
King — Ed, that is — of KDKA triples in writing
producing, acting and supports a wife as well.
At the end of the day, Ed is
usually asleep at his type-
writer, but wife Wendy, for-
mer Ft. Wayne newswoman, just
seems to go on and on and on.
TRIPLE-THREAT man at KDKA, Pittsburgh Westinghouse station,
is Ed King — writer, producer and actor.
He had no set plan for his future when he finished school in his
native La Crosse, Wisconsin, but he did have a flair for writing — a flair
which first got him interested in newspaper work. Radio beckoned
him in 1937 when he took a job at WKBH in La Crosse as a continuity
writer.
But the attraction of the newsroom was still stronger and he left
WKBH to go to Chicago as a free lance writer and later as a reporter
and rewrite man on the Tribune. Something else happened in Chicago,
however — he got his first taste of big time radio as assistant to the
production manager at WGN.
That definitely launched him on a radio career and during the years
before World War II he gathered experience as program director at
WSJS, Winston Salem, N. C, and as a writer and production man at
the Westinghouse station in Ft. Wayne, Indiana, WO WO.
Uncle Sam called him and he went off to the wars as a member of
the Army Air Corps Intelligence. Shortly after he won a discharge,
King joined the staff of KDKA January 15, 1946.
His first assignment at the Pittsburgh station was as a gag man and
script writer for the noontime Variety show, "Brunch With Bill," a
Monday-through-Friday half hour feature. For a time, while the
show's originator, Bill Hinds, was in the Army, King wrote script and
acted as Brunchmaster. When Hinds returned to the Station, King
continued as writer and actor.
The five-day-a-week stint left him too much time on his hands,
however, and he set about- writing other shows. His next effort was
a serious dramatic presentation, "The Man Who Forgot," a Good
Friday drama based on the story of Pontius Pilate. It has since be-
come a KDKA tradition and is presented every Good Friday.
His next effort was a special summer replacement, "King for a
Minute," a 15-minute satirical program in which he poked fun at every
kind of stuffed-shirtedness that came his way.
He returned to serious writing just before the National Presidential
Campaigns opened when he wrote and produced a 13-week series of
half hour dramatic productions entitled "The Star-Spangled 'X' " — a
political history of the men who sought the Presidency.
Months of research brought to light little known episodes of the
nation's early political conventions. They were presented with true
historic flavor and rounded out by the sparkling campaign and folk
songs of the day.
In addition to writing and producing KDKA radio shows, King has
taken part in many of them as an actor. He has been featured in the
Adventures in Research series and in the KDKA public service shows
on Sundays at 4:30 P.M.
King and his wife, Wendy, live in suburban Beechview and devote
their spare time to their book and record collections. Wendy, former
Ft. Wayne newspaper woman and continuity writer, continues her
radio work in Pittsburgh as a free-lance writer for advertising
agencies.
They both like radio and now that they're sure it's here to stay, they
are exploring the possibilities of television.
16
My Lux Soap facials
bring quick new Loveliness ! "
says Myrna Loy
Here's a proved complexion care! In
recent Lux Toilet Soap tests by skin
specialists, actually three out of four com-
plexions became lovelier in a short time!
"Smooth the fragrant lather well in,"
says Myrna Loy. "Rinse with warm water,
then cold. As you pat with a soft towel to
dry, skin takes on fresh new beauty!"
Don't let neglect cheat you of romance.
Take Hollywood's tip. See what this gentle
beauty care will do for you!
Star of
Republic Pictures'
"THE RED PONY"
■
M
17
WHAT'S NEW FROM COAST to COAST
Dinah Shore was a recent radio "instructor" in Los
Angeles' new Board of Education training program.
(Continued from page 15)
started buying horses again and is pinning high hopes on
a colt that will probably be named "Gorgeous George,"
if the name is passed by the U. S. Jockey Club.
* * *
After all the fine talk about how television is going to
be such a big thing in such a short time, Sid Strotz,
NBC's head of television, threw a lakeful of cold water
on the whole thing recently. He predicted that losses by
the pioneers in the new field would be staggering for the
next three years and that a national hook-up would be
economically impossible for at least 10 years. Expect to
hear some large beefs from other experts, soon.
* * *
One of the reasons Jack Barry, who emcees Life Be-
gins at 80, gave up his search for the oldest living person
in the country was that birth records were not too care-
fully kept more than fifty years ago. Jack even now runs
into difficulties in getting documentary evidence of the
ages of people trying to get on the show. He says that
some of the oldsters seeking spots on the panel produce
all kinds of documents, their driver's licenses, insurance
policies, passports, Spanish American War discharge cer-
tificates, wills, contracts and even the birth certificates
of their children — which in most instances contain the
ages of the parents — but never has one of the applicants
produced his or her own birth certificate.
GOSSIP AND STUFF . . . Tommy Dorsey is buying out
his disc jockey show and handling the recorded stanza
and all its business by himself . . . William L. Shirer has
written a play which is making the rounds of Broadway
producers . . . Raymond Paige is working on movie shorts
based on the idea of his Musicomedy radio series —
dramatizing leading magazine stories and fitting music
to them . . . Martin Block has his headquarters back in
New York again . . . Several record companies are in a
bad shape and likely to fold before the end of the year
. . . Marion Hutton has been working with the Marx
Brothers on their new picture, due to hit the nation's
screens soon . . . Dick Powell is making another movie
based on an original story . . . Phil Baker has been busy
writing a book on his 30 years in show business . . . That's
all for this month. Happy listening.
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By SARAH VAUGHAN
(Sarah Vaughan has been acclaimed
a foremost song stylist of modern times.
During the past year she's won top
honors in many polls. She won the
1947 Esquire Award as the outstanding
new singing star of the year. Sarah,
who's 23 years old, was singing in the
choir of the Mount Zion Baptist Church,
Newark, N. J., until five years ago when
she won an amateur contest at a New
York theater and a job as vocalist with
Earl Hines' band. She was signed by
Musicraft Records in 1946 and has been
that label's top-selling artist.)
MY FAVORITE
TEN VOCAL RECORDS
1. "Ave Maria" by Marian Anderson
2. "Nancy" by Frank Sinatra
3. "Around About Midnight" by Mar-
garet Whiting
4. "A Sunday Kind of Love" by Jo
Stafford
5. "It's Monday Every Day" by Jo
Stafford
6. "I'm Getting Sentimental Over You"
by Jack Leonard
7. "Stairway To The Stars" by Ella
Fitzgerald
8. "Good Morning, Heartaches" by
Billie Holiday
9. "Intrigue" by Billy Eckstine
10. "Basin Street Blues" by Herb Jef-
fries.
My favorites among my own discs
are: "The Lord's Prayer," "Everything
I Have Is Yours," "It's Magic," all on
the Musicraft label.
This list comprises records by all my
favorite vocalists. I am heading the list
with Marian Anderson's "Ave Maria"
because I am a very great admirer of
Miss Anderson's work. Many times I
have wished that I could go in for the
serious kind of work she has done. One
of the greatest thrills of my entire
career came a short time ago when Miss
Anderson called me up to compliment
me on my recording of "The Lord's
Prayer." To say the least, I was over-
whelmed.
My favorite male vocalists are Frank
Sinatra and Billy Eckstine. Billy and
I worked together with Earl Hines'
band, and when Billy started his own
band in 1945, I went with him.
As for girl singers, I like and admire
a lot of them, particularly Jo Stafford,
Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday and Mar-
garet Whiting. I think each has her
own particular style, and that is what
makes a singer.
Oaeaadttt' $m4e& smile wins
a feather for her hat !
Jacqueline Crouse, Art Student, outsparkled
1300 of Boston's brightest beauties in a Com-
munity Fund contest to choose the city's 1948
Red Feather Girl. A jury of prominent citizens
awarded her the "crown" — a Lilly Dache hat
adorned with a red feather, symbol of the Com-
munity Chests of America.
Jacqueline's smile has a way with college men,
too. They voted her "Sweetheart of Sigma Chi"
at Brown University. Now her smile is brighten-
ing the campus of the Rhode Island School of
Design. "It's a Pepsodent Smile," Jacqueline
says. "No other tooth paste will do for me!"
The smile that wins
is the Pepsodent Smile !
Jacqueline Crouse knows it, people all over
America agree— the smile that wins is the
Pepsodent Smile! Pepsodent with Irium is
their 3-to-l favorite for brighter smiles.
Wins 3 to 1 over any other tooth paste
—families from coast to coast recently com-
pared delicious New -Pepsodent with the
tooth paste they were using at home. By
an average of 3 to 1, they said New Pepso-
dent tastes better, makes breath cleaner
and teeth brighter than any other tooth
paste they tried. For the safety of your
smile use Pepsodent twice a day— see your
dentist twice a year!
ANOTHER FINE LEVER IROTHERS PRODUCT
19
ENTHUSIAST EXTRAORDINARY
IF there's one word you can associate with
Ross Weller — whether you meet him in per-
son, see him before a mike, or hear him over
the air — it's "enthusiasm." He has plenty of it,
and five long years in the Army, including
action on Okinawa, has failed to lessen his
spirits.
He has an enthusiasm for his own job and
for all branches of show business — including a
new one, television. His love for entertainment
began back in high school when he was presi-
dent of the Dramatic Club and continued
through college, where he also headed the dra-
matic group.
The versatile Weller writes, produces and is
co-M.C. of WBEN's Early Date at Hengerer's,
Buffalo's daily audience show now passing the
1100 mark in broadcasts. This fun-and-music,
quiz-and-stunt show originates in the tearoom
of Hengerer's Buffalo department store, and it's
Ross who thinks up all those stunts and games
that keep the visible and listening audience
guessing and grinning.
Ross was born in Toronto, Ontario, July 13,
1916. He moved with his parents to Rochester,
N. Y. when he was 4 and went through school
there, graduating from the University of Roch-
ester in 1938.
He was the sparkplug in dramatics at the uni-
versity and played three summers of dramatic
stock during college vacations. Upon gradua-
tion, he went to New York to look over stage
prospects and after three months decided that,
for him, things didn't look too well.
Young Weller returned to Rochester and was
in the auto financing business for a year, but
that didn't provide the proper outlet for the
enthusiasm of the personable six-footer. In
January 1940 he joined WSAY, Rochester, as
an announcer, and when he left in January 1942
to become program director at WBTA, Batavia
— half-wav between Rochester and his future
home, Buffalo — he was chief announcer.
Ross joined the Army in September 1941 and
had attained the rank of sergeant when he
started at Officers' Candidate School. In August
1942, he was commissioned as a second lieu-
tenant.
He was assigned to the 87th infantry division
and in 1944 was transferred to Hawaii. There
he joined the Tenth Army and was in on the
invasion of Okinawa. He remained there until
December 22, 1945, when he was hospitalized
and flown back to the States.
While at Okinawa he acquired a fungus in-
fection and was hospitalized for eleven months,
finally receiving his honorable discharge in
October 1946 with the rank of major. He now
holds the same rank in the reserve Signal Corps.
Five days out of service, he was back in radio
as staff announcer at WHAM, Rochester where
he became a special-events man and handled a
platter show and a novelty program. He came
to WBEN Sept. 22, 1947 and has been announc-
ing, disc-jockeying, writing and producing on a
busy schedule ever since.
On April 19, 1947, the rangy Ross married
lovely Jane Helen Hoercher of Rochester.
Program hostess Esther Huff with Clint Buehlman
and Ross Weller (r.), of Early Date at Hengerer's.
Looking backwards to a happy day, April 19, 1947,
when Jane H. Hoercher of Rochester became Mrs. W.
'"■v..;J L§ m iMv)
W'TH THE NEW IPOK-AHD THE "NEWlW
EVER SINCE Johnny Appleseed planted his
first trees, we Americans have been eating
and liking apple dumplings.
Now, everybody'll like 'em even better be-
cause there's a new trick, thanks to KARO:;
Syrup, that .gives them a gorgeous golden crust,
and a more delicious flavor.
Why not make some KARO apple dumplings
today? They're easy and economical. Want to
know what your family will say? Just two words
. . ."More, please".
thE fCARO KiD
*KARO is a registere d trade-mark
of Corn Products Refininsr Co.,
New York. N.Y. © C.l'.R.Co.. H4K
KARO is available in
V/2,5& 10 lb. sizes.
APPLE DUMPLINGS
^
1 recipe baking powder biscuit dough
KARO adds richness and flavor
to baked apples, apple pies, and
many other delicious apple dishes.
Send today for the FREE recipe
booklet, address Helen Holmes,
Corn Products Refining Company,
1 7 Battery Place, New York 4, N.Y.
■HUB
2 tablespoons lemon
juice
'/4 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
6 medium baking apples,
pared and cored
2 tablespoons melted butter
or margarine
VI cup sugar
lVi cups KARO Syrup, Blue Label Va cup water
3 tablespoons melted butter or margarine
Roll baking powder biscuit dough into a rectangle Vs inch thick.
Cut into 6 squares. Place an apple in center of each square. Fill
centers of apples with mixtures of 2 tablespoons melted butter,
sugar, lemon juice, salt and spices. Pinch corners of squares to-
gether over each opple. Place in greased pan {7'/2xl2x2 inches).
Combine KARO Syrup, water and 3 tablespoons melted butter.
Pour over dumplings. Bake in hoi oven (450° F.) 10 minutes;
reduce temperature to 350° F. and continue baking 35 to 40
minutes or until apples are tender. Baste occasionally with syrup
mixture during baking. Makes 6 servings.
BEHIND
#r
1
/N
SjMfc'MJa
^COMPANY COCKTAIL
In many homes, Dole Pineapple Juice is
the "Here's to Thanksgiving" drink . . .
served in many ways, with festive meals,
and even in-between! This holiday season,
enjoy its refreshing coolness for "after-
noon tea." Its tropic refreshing flavor goes
great with salted nuts and fruit cake.
DOLE
PINEAPPLE PLUM PUDDING
Holiday dinners call for plum pudding
and yours this year can be better than
ever! Just add a cup of drained new Dole
lied Pineapple to your standard plum
pudding recipe. For extra taste-excitemrin,
fold some into your bard sauce, too. The
Doll Crushed, you know, looks bet-
md tasti bettei be< aus< it is i risp-
. ;i ; .! : an today?
*By Patricia Collier
Harm i i onomist
li ( ompany, Ltd.
215 Markei St., San l rani isi o, Calif.
Mf True
Story
CHARLES Warburton, co-director of
My True Story (ABC, Monday
through Friday at 10 A.M., EST),
is one of those actors and directors who
has been in the business for so long
that he's developed a fine sense of
horseplay about the "Profession," as it
is called by its devotees. He has an
easy laugh, a charming manner, and a
voice which over the air and telephone
belies his years and experience.
Mr. Warburton comes from an old
English theatrical family. He was born
in Yorkshire, England, and educated at
Wesley College and Sheffield Uni-
versity. When he got through with that
formal part of his education he joined
the famous acting company of Sir
Frank Benson and ". . . spent the next
twelve years, really learning."
In 1913, he toured the United States
with the Stratford-on-Avon players,
but before that tour went too far he
returned to England to enlist for
service in the First World War. He
served three years in France and pre-
fers not to talk about it.
When he returned to England for
demobilization, the first person he ran
into on the street was the manager of
the Old Vic, who invited him to join
the company immediately.
In a short while, Mr. Warburton be-
came the leading man of the Old Vic
Company and, a year later, he added
to his duties that of directing the com-
pany.
Late in 1920, Mr. Warburton made a
second visit to the United States. This
was a visit that never ended, for he's
been here ever since and has become
an American citizen.
Mr. Warburton auditioned for NBC
in 1927 and was promptly hired as an
actor-director. He was on the staff of
NBC for many years. Now, he's added
ABC to his conquests, where he is one
PRODUCER
L^narles l/Uarb
urlon
ACTRESS
C^oLith FJ~ellt
owi
of their most highly respectecLdirectors.
Mr. Warburton has been with the
My True Story program ever since
it started and he figures, roughly, that
he's directed about six hundred of the
stories that have been presented.
* * *
One of the actresses most frequently
called upon to appear on the My True
Story stanza is tiny Edith Fellows, who
tips the scales at exactly 89 pounds, is
five feet tall and has hazel eyes and
reddish-blonde hair. Which doesn't
really describe her after all.
Practically all her life, Edith has
been an entertainer. She was born in
Boston in 1923 of Scotch-English de-
scent. There is behind her a long line
of distinguished artists, singers, actors
and politicians.
Edith's baby years were spent in
Charlotte, North Carolina, where, as
soon as she was able to walk and talk,
she was called on to entertain at
benefits.
All this was fine in North Carolina.
But when Edith was taken to Holly-
wood at the age of three, her parents
discovered that hundreds of other hope-
ful parents and their talented offspring
(at least, so the parents thought) had
also had the same idea.
When Edith was finally spotted by a
talent scout, she was given tiny extra
parts and flashes in mob scenes with
hundreds of other children whose par-
ents also hoped they'd be successful
one day.
Then, as her roles in pictures grew
larger until she was playing opposite
Bing Crosby in "Pennies From Heaven"
and, even more successfully with
Claudette Colbert in "She Married Her
Boss," Edith began to get places in
radio, too — as a singer. There followed
another vaudeville tour, in which pro-
ducer Brock Pemberton saw her and
decided she was just what the doctor
ordered to play the title role of "Janie."
Edith has also made her mark in
musical comedy. But her debut in that
field was not on the Broadway stage,
or before the Hollywood cameras. The
first audiences to whom she sang were
the service men at hospitals and can-
teens.
And from this came a series of musi-
cals such as the title role in the Broad-
way hit, "Marinka," and leading roles
in summer stock productions of "Ros-
alie," "Student Prince," "Naughty Mar-
ietta," "Babes in Toyland" and George
Abbott's "Best Foot Forward." This is a
young lady who's been knocking
around in show business as long as
many a veteran of far riper years, but
she loves it and can think of no other
life that she would rather follow.
w^/g^aakifstF^x
YES, I'M JEANNIE. Together, Fred and I
turned out songs . . . about love and moon-
beams. To annoy me he sometimes whistled
"Jeannie with the Light Brown Hair". . . for
my brown hair was nothing to dream about.
It was just dingy-looking and unruly.
BACKSTAGE ONE NIGHT, my chum \|j II
told me the secret of her gorgeous hair.
"Lustre-Creme Shampoo," she said. "My hair-
dresser uses it. It's not a soap, nor a liquid,
but a new cream shampoo with lanolin. Lse
it at home, too, and keep your hair lovely!"
Jeannie with the dull wild hair...
now a lovely ' LUSTRECREME Girl
WHEN I GAILY ARRIVED at our studio next day, Fred whistled in amaze-
ment. "Hold it, Gorgeous!" he cried. "Your hair! It's wonderful! If
Stephen Foster could write lyrics about lovely brown hair, so can I.
What rhymes with glisten, glamour, sheen, and pays off with lovel) dream
girl?" Thanks to Lustre-Creme Shampoo, 1 rated a love song alter all.
YOU, TOO . . . can have soft, gleaming,
glamorous hair with magical Lustre-Creme
Shampoo. Created by Kay Daumit, to
glamorize hair with new 3-way loveliness:
1. Fragrantly clean, free of loose dandruff
2. Glistening with sheen
3. Soft, easy to manage
Lustre-Creme is a blend of secret ingredi-
ents— plus gentle lanolin, akin to the oils
in a healthy scalp. Lathers richly in hard
or soft water. No special rinse needed. Try
Lustre-Creme Shampoo! Be a lovely
"Lustre-Creme" Girl. 4-oz. jar $1.00;
smaller sizes in jars or tubes, 49^ ami '2'iC.
At all cosmetic counters. Try it today!
Koy Daumit, Inc. (Successor! 919 N. Mich. Ave., Chicago, III.
\n/l:other you r. - er the TUBE or he JAR,
you'll prefer LUSTRE-CREME SnAMPOO I
woods /VEWES T brtiwioiw Secret
RITA HAYWORTH
STAR OF
"THE LOVES
OF CARMEN"
A Columbia Technicolor
Production
A Beckworlb Corp.
Picture
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Around New York City's famous east
side Terminal, producer Martin Horrell (above)
builds a drama each week. Exciting train-
time sounds are re-created by the program's iound-
effects men (r.), Jim Rogan, Francis Mellow.
'TT1HE play's the thing," Shakespeare said long ago. In
I hearty agreement with Mr. S. is Martin Horrell, pro-
ducer and originator of Grand Central Station, popular
dramatic show heard every Saturday over the Columbia
Broadcasting System network. If Mr. Horrell insists upon
adding, "But don't forget the writer," those who know the
story behind the stories broadcast on Grand Central Sta-
tion will readily understand.
Since the first presentation of Grand Central Station in
1937, Martin Horrell has produced a new and different
drama on the air each week. Despite his enviable reputa-
tion in the radio world as a story editor, he says that could
not have sustained the high quality of his program and its
wide listener appeal without a steady flow of radio scripts
from fledgling and professional free-lance writers, upon
which to mount his painstaking production.
Ten years is a long time on the air and a lot of writing is
consumed in that length of time, particularly in a radio
show with a different story and a new set of characters
coming up every week. These new stories, individual radio
dramas, don't just happen. They must be written, and that
requires writers. That's where producer Horrell departs
from the most-trodden paths. Although the work of well-
known radio writers is frequently produced on Grand
Central Station, the emphasis is on new talent. Budding
authors are encouraged and {Continued on page 96)
Grand Central Station is heard each Saturday on CBS at 1 P.M. EST.
25
M
■-<&? /""' iiM
AST year the First Annual Radio Mirror Awards
brought the readers of Radio Mirror their first
opportunity to vote, on a nationwide scale, for
their favorite radio programs and performers. Last
year, too, marked the first time that the people most
closely concerned with the business of radio — the
networks, advertising agencies, press agents, and
their producers and directors, as well as the radio
stars themselves — had an opportunity to learn how
the reader-listeners felt about the programs being
offered to the public. And after all, the people who
listen to radio are the most important people of all
to the radio industry.
Now, in 1948, the Radio Mirror Awards, no longer
an experiment, but an important part of the radio
scene, will again search out listener preferences,
again provide the public with a medium through
which its voice can be heard, again provide the in-
dustry with standards against which to weigh pro-
grams already on the air and those planned for future
airing. Not only in 1948, but every year — for the
Awards are now an important part of the Radio
Mirror annual schedule.
If you, the listener, have applauded your favorite
programs and stars only in your own home, where
your opinion can be heard only by your family,
here is your chance to be heard coast to coast! And
if your criticism of shows and performers you dislike
has also been a family affair, here's the way to make
your dislikes known on a large scale. Even if you
are one of the people who write to networks about
programs, remember that one voice alone makes
little sound, but many together can produce earth-
shaking volume!
On the opposite page is the first of the two Radio
Mirror Awards ballots. On this first ballot, you are
invited to state your preferences among the radio
stars now on the air. Next to each type of star,
printed on the ballot, is a space in which to write
the name of the performer who, in your opinion, is
the best in that field.
Send your completed ballot to Radio Mirror Mag-
azine, 205 East 42nd Street, New York 17, N. Y.
Results will be announced in the April, 1949, issue
of Radio Mirror.
Next month, in the December issue of Radio Mir-
ror, a ballot on which to vote for your favorite
programs will appear. The December issue will be
on sale Wednesday, November 10th.
Remember that you can vote only for your fa-
vorite stars on the ballot opposite; next month,
vote for your favorite programs on the ballot
which will be printed in the December issue of Radio
Mirror.
13
Mt/(Aowfr mm* tawmtfe
_^_
VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE STARS
(Write in the name of your one favorite star opposite each of the classifications below)
My Favorite My Favorite
SINGER (man) is SINGER (woman) is
My Favorite
ORCHESTRA LEADER is.
My Favorite
ANNOUNCER is
My Favorite
NEWS COMMENTATOR is
My Favorite
SPORTS ANNOUNCER is . .
My Favorite My Favorite
COMEDIAN (man) is COMEDIENNE (woman) is.
My Favorite
DAYTIME SERIAL ACTOR is
My Favorite
DAYTIME SERIAL ACTRESS is
My Favorite My Favorite
QUIZMASTER is DISC JOCKEY is
MOST PROMISING NEWCOMER TO RADIO THIS YEAR
My Favorite MASTER OF CEREMONIES is
My Favorite WOMEN'S COMMENTATOR is
My Favorite HUSBAND AND WIFE TEAM is
Cut out this ballot and mail to Radio Mirror Awards, 205 East 42nd Street, New York 17, N. T.
I
radw Afapb wt wfata w,
_. .
c/Caatd ^Mwwcv-A Aeamd annual aw€W<m
L.
\
I
J yf &
AST year the First Annual Radio Mirror Awards
brought the readers of Radio Mirror their first
opportunity to vote, on a nationwide scale, for
their favorite radio programs and performers. Last
year, too, marked the first time that the people most
closely concerned with the business of radio — the
networks, advertising agencies, press agents, and
their producers and directors, as well as the radio
stars themselves — had an opportunity to learn how
the reader-listeners felt about the programs being
offered to the public. And after all, the people who
listen to radio are the most important people of all
to the radio industry.
Now, in 1948, the Radio Mirror Awards, no longer
an experiment, but an important part of the radio
scene, will again search out listener preferences,
again provide the public with a medium through
which its voice can be heard, again provide the in-
dustry with standards against which to weigh pro-
grams already on the air and those planned for future
airing. Not only in 1948, but every year — for the
Awards are now an important part of the Radio
Mirror annual schedule.
If you, the listener, have applauded your favorite
programs and stars only in your own home, where
your opinion can be heard only by your family,
here is your chance to be heard coast to coast! And
if your criticism of shows and performers you dislike
has also been a family affair, here's the way to make
your dislikes known on a large scale. Even if you
are one of the people who write to networks about
programs, remember that one voice alone makes
little sound, but many together can produce earth-
shaking volume!
On the opposite page is the first of the two Radio
Mirror Awards ballots. On this first ballot, you are
invited to state your preferences among the radio
stars now on the air. Next to each type of star,
printed on the ballot, is a space in which to write
the name of the performer who, in your opinion, is
the best in that field.
Send your completed ballot to Radio Mirror Mag-
azine, 205 East 42nd Street, New York 17, N. Y.
Results will be announced in the April, 1949, issue
of Radio Mirror.
Next month, in the December issue of Radio Mir-
ror, a ballot on which to vote for your favorite
programs will appear. The December issue will be
on sale Wednesday, November 10th.
Remember that you can vote only for your fa-
vorite stars on the ballot opposite; next month,
vote for your favorite programs on the ballot
which will be printed in the December issue of Radio
Mirror.
VOTE FOR YOUR FAVORITE STAR9
(Write in the name of yonr on. ,„.„,. 8lap „„„„., ,, rf , ( ^
My Favorite „ K
SINGER (man) is g v ,„ ^^^ ._
My Favorite ^ «
ORCHESTRA LEADER is . ,„, .'o,',,,^., v|,,|( „
My Favorite ,,, ,.■„,.„,.„
ANNOUNCER is . , sl>ORTs m(m ^ ^
My Favorite _ iMv Kav„ri„.
COMEDIAN (man) is COMEDIENNE (mnum) b
My Favorite M). F„v„ri,,.
DAYTIME SERIAL ACTOR is ... DAYTIME SERIAL ACTRESS b
My Favorite «, Favor|„
QUIZMASTER is i„s, J(1(K1.v h
MOST PROMISING NEWCOMER TO RADIO THIS YEW
My Favorite MASTER OF CEREMONIES is
My Favorite WOMEN'S COMMENTATOR is
My Favorite HUSBAND AND WIFE TEAM is .
Cat oat tilts ballot unit mall to Radio Mirror Auiml-, lit", in.i Und Btnat, tint v..rk IT N. Y.
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Il)«- <t>uiz Kid.- have uidre than brains on theii
RIN'.Y) TEMPIiETO*^ and JOI-L M P]
THE QUIZ KIDS
OEL KUPPERMAN, twelve-year-old mathe-
matical wizard of more than 200 Quiz Kid
programs, and Rinny Templeton, thirteen,
current authority on history and literature, join
forces to tell you about the man Radio Mirror
readers named the nation's best quiz master in
the first annual listeners' poll last year.
Kids are like dogs. They can sense the dif-
ference between people who really like them
and those who put on an act.
We Quiz Kids were happy when Radio Mirror
readers named Joe Kelly the nation's best quiz
master last year. He's our favorite quiz master,
too, and the main reason we like him is because
we know he likes us.
It doesn't take long for a new Quiz Kid to find
out about Mr. Kelly.
Your first day on the show is like the first day
at a new school. Everyone has told you not to
be scared, but just the same, you are.
Everything seems big and mysterious when
you come into the Merchandise Mart in Chicago,
thirty minutes ahead of the show. You feel you
can walk and walk down the towering corridors
and never arrive at the NBC studios.
You wonder what kind of questions they will
ask you, and whether you'll know any of the
answers. You wish you could get just one little
advance glimpse so you could be thinking about
them, but you know that won't happen. You re-
member you have been told emphatically,
"There's no rehearsal."
You zoom up in an elevator fast as an airplane,
and when they bring you into the little corridor
back of the big studio, you slip past the control
room to peek through the door to see the row of
little white desks on the platform. You find your
name on a sign in front of one of them. You see
the audience filing in.
All those people, and all those listening on
their radios will hear it if you don't know the
answers. You get that trembly feeling which
comes before an examination in school. Only
this is worse. If you're small enough, you hold
tight to your mother's hand.
The other kids scuffle and joke about things
that happened last week. They toss on their
rustling red gowns as though they were old
sweaters, but you get all tangled up with the
hooks. They slap their mortar boards on their
heads as though they were beanies, while you try
to balance that strange contraption so it won't
slide down over your nose. You have had no
practice wearing an academic cap and gown.
Just when you are sure you want to turn
around and head for home, Mr. Kelly comes in.
You're introduced, and he says, "Well, hello
there Rinny!" — or Joel, or Lonnie, or Bobby, or
whatever your name may be — "I'm certainly glad
to see you here."
You know he means it, too. You feel he has
been waiting for you all the time.
Then you notice he has almost as much diffi-
culty with his green gown as you had with your
red one. He fumbles with the big sleeves. He
jabs a hook at an eye and misses. You weren't so
clumsy after all.
He pats you on the (Continued on page 72)
M
28
,
ANYONE who has to go out in front of the public and
make like an actress for her living is apt to have
times, usually late at night, when she wonders who
she is. This is a mild mental disorder which might be
called angleitis, since it is the result of being written
about from too many different angles by people who
have nothing better to do than go around thinking
them up — publicity men and such. One's sense of being
a real person can get completely lost in the angular
mazes and distorted mirrors of publicity.
The other night at dinner I was trying to tell ray
husband, Allan Nixon, something about this. "Allan,"
I said, "sometimes I feel so overcrowded, and lately
it's been getting worse."
"Now look, dumpling," Allan spoke very firmly,
"don't go trying out any of that Irma dialogue on me."
If you've ever heard Irma, you'll need no diagram
of my husband's unkind meaning: he meant that what
I was saying sounded to him kind of off-center and
lunkheaded. Which just goes to show, as every married
woman knows, that even the best husbands can be
awfully obtuse at times.
What I was trying to tell Allan was that sometimes
the inside of my skull feels as congested as the area
immediately around the football half a second after
a fumble on the one-yard line in the Rose Bowl. There
are too many Wilsons in there — or too many press
agents. First, there's bone-dome Wilson, the dumb,
good-hearted blonde of CBS, Irma on My Friend Irma;
then there's glamor-gam Wilson, one of the more
prominent exhibits in that menagerie of show business,
Ken Murray's Blackouts; and finally there's smarty-
pants Wilson, who works hard at being a nitwit and
makes it pay off on the movie lots. And away down
underneath the pile-up, still trying hard to hang onto
the ball, is a slightly scared and somewhat suffocated
character — and that's me, Marie Wilson. That gal needs
air. She needs to get all those other Wilsons off her
chest. That's what this story is for and about. Since
Allan wasn't interested, I'll just tell you.
To begin where the story begins, we have to go
back to Anaheim, California, December the thirtieth,
nineteen hundred and none of your business. But it
was later than 1916 — I've got a birth certificate to
prove it.
Shortly after my arrival, my father and mother were
divorced. I firmly believe that this was merely a coinci-
dence. Anyway, my mother married again very soon
and my stepfather turned out such a grand person
that the "step" part could just as well be omitted, as
Marie Wilson is My Friend Irma in the
CHS comedy, beard Monday nights at 10 P. M. EST.
A double life can be a very
confusing thing for a girl — particularly
when it's made up of two strong
personalities like the make-believe Irma
and the real Marie Wilson
By MARIE WILSON
far as I'm concerned.
With my three brothers and two sisters I had an
abnormally happy and normal childhood among the
orange groves and nuts of Anaheim — a lot of English
walnuts are grown in that district. Ours was a chat-
tersome houseful; whenever there were fewer than
three people talking at once, things began to seem dull.
Play-acting was a popular pastime in our family. All
kids like to do it, I suppose — dress up in their elders'
clothes and parade their conceptions of how grown-ups
act. Incidentally, the most educational thing that could
happen to most grown-ups would be to catch a child's
impersonation of them. Of course the grown-up has
got to have a sense of humor, or the results for the
child caught doing the impersonation are likely to be
painful. I speak from experience.
However, no matter what some people say, I grew
up, and at sixteen I didn't graduate from high school.
I'm pretty sure I would have, eventually, if I'd per-
sisted long enough, but who wants to spend ten or
twelve of the best years of their life on plane geom-
etry? I quit before I'd accumulated enough credits to
merit a diploma and went to Hollywood to be a movie
star.
Two things made the Hollywood venture possible —
a sizable inheritance left me by my real father when
he died, and an absolutely colossal unawareness, all
my own, of what it took to crack a movie studio.
The first move of my foray against fame and fortune
was to bring my whole family to Hollywood with me.
Being one of a big family isn't (Continued on page 89)
30
^^^
Scatter-brained is a mild
word for Irma— but on the
other hand, so is lovable!
1935 . . . the late Lupe Velez and Santos Ortega,
now a familiar radio actor, in "Broken Wing."
By
WILLIAM
KEIGHLEY
These reminiscenses of Lux
Radio Theatre are written
for Radio Mirror by the pro-
ducer-host of the program,
which is heard Mondays at
9 P.M. EST, on CBS stations.
wmm
Past and present, the veteran Radio Theatre is res-
IF a train does not pull out of a depot on schedule,
it pulls out after schedule. If a bus lags behind its
timetable, it is not removed from the road. If a
passenger plane does not take off on time, it takes
off late. And if a ship does not sail the day of an-
nouncement, another day will do.
In virtually every activity involving human effort —
on land, in the air and on sea, if you please — there
is a second chance or a late start. In my nearly three
years as producer and host of the Lux Theatre, I
have learned that radio — live radio, such as Lux, of
course — is a breathtaking exception to the rule of
margin of error.
Never was it more painfully apparent than on the
day, three hours before airtime, when it was dis-
covered that the permission of author Sally Benson
had not been obtained for adaptation of "Sunday
Dinner for a Soldier."
It was too late even to mimeograph a new script,
let alone time to rewrite another motion picture for
1937 . . . Janet Gayjior, Robert Montgomery in a
production of the record-making "A Star is Born."
52
asible for some of radio's most glittering moments
radio presentation. Already there had been five re-
hearsals, aggregating 700 man hours of preparation,
as was the custom on the most rehearsed dramatic
show on the air.
Somewhere in the United States was Sally Benson,
the one person who could authorize the announced
broadcast. Just where, nobody knew. The best that
could be learned from the studio which had produced
the film was the telephone number of Miss Benson's
agent in New York City. A nearly hysterical long
distance call elicited the information that Miss Ben-
son might be at her ranch 50 miles inland from
Santa Barbara, California.
Finally, she was tracked down through Informa-
tion. Yes, a telephone was listed for a Sally Benson
residing near Santa Barbara. But it had been dis-
connected. She did not wish to be disturbed at her
retreat.
Despair pervaded the CBS Playhouse on Vine
Street. There was one wild (Continued on page 84)
Robert Taylor, Mr. Keighley and Katharine Hepburn ready
to go on "Undercurrent." Note Oscar, the monkey-puzzle
arrangement between the stars; he — or it — is there to be
clutched, poked and even sat on by tense performers, if any.
1945 . . . Ray Milland, Ginger Rogers and all the
glamor that went with tuneful "Lady in the Dark."
A\
1935 . . . the late Lupe Velez and Santos Ortega,
now a familiar radio actor, in "Broken Wing.''
Thete reminiicenKi ot Lux
Radio Theatre are written
for Radio Mirror by the pro-
r-hoit of the program,
which ia heard Mondays at
9 P.M. EST, on CBS ■
imam
Past and present, the veteran Radio Theatre is
IF a train does not pull out of a depot on schedule
it pulls out after schedule. If a bus lags behind its
timetable, it is not removed from the road. If a
passenger plane does not take off on time, it takes
off late. And if a ship does not sail the day of an-
nouncement, another day will do.
In virtually every activity involving human effort—
on land, in the air and on sea, if you please — there
is a second chance or a late start. In my nearly three
years as producer and host of the Lux Theatre, J
have learned that radio — live radio, such as Lux, of
course — is a breathtaking exception to the rule of
margin of error.
Never was it more painfully apparent than on the
day, three hours before airfime, when it was dis-
covered that the permission of author Sally Benson
had not been obtained for adaptation of "Sunday
Dinner for a Soldier."
It was too late even to mimeograph a new script,
let alone time to rewrite another motion picture for
at
nsible for some of radio's most glittering moments
radio presentation. Already there had been five re-
hearsals, aggregating 700 man hours of preparation,
as was the custom on the most rehearsed dramatic
show on the air.
Somewhere in the United States was Sally Benson,
the one person who could authorize the announced
broadcast. Just where, nobody knew. The best that
could be learned from the studio which had produced
the film was the telephone number of Miss Benson's
agent in New York City. A nearly hysterical long
distance call elicited the information that Miss Ben-
son might be at her ranch 50 miles inland from
Santa Barbara, California.
Finally, she was tracked down through Informa-
tion. Yes, a telephone was listed for a Sally Benson
residing near Santa Barbara. But it had been dis-
connected. She did not wish to be disturbed at her
retreat.
Despair pervaded the CBS Playhouse on Vine
Street. There was one wild (Continued on page 84)
1937 . . . Janet Gayjior, Robert Montgomery in n
production of the record-making "A Star is Born."
. Ray Milland, Ginger Rogers and alt the
that went with tuneful "Lady in the Dark."
Robert Taylor, Mr. Keighley ond Katharine Hepburn ready
lo go on "Undercurrent." Note Oscar, the m on key -puis te
arrangement between the stars; In.- — or it — is there to be
clutched, poked and even eat on hy tense performers, if any.
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Without Radio Mirror, you'd
have as much trouble getting into
this studio as you would
have getting into Fort Knox
Studio audiences get a pre-broadcast show, too.
IF YOU were visiting in Hollywood, Sunday
afternoon would probably find you lined up
with hundreds of others at the NBC studios,
trying to get in to see the Jack Benny Show.
Unfortunately, only 350 lucky folks can have
this privilege every week (that's all the studio
seats) so even if you were on the spot your
chances would be -small. However, Radio Mir-
ror won't let you be stopped by mere time-and-
space limitations; with these pages we whisk
you past the crowds, through the great double
doors, into the silver-walled hush of the studio,
where you choose for yourself among the
maroon-upholstered seats. It's about 3:30 P.M.
at this point, half an hour before air time (4 PST,
7 EST) but you're not too early; you're just in
time for the pre-broadcast show with which
the Benny cast warms-up itself and the audience
before the "On the Air" signal turns red.
No Btone is left unturned if there might be
something fanny underneath it — even the com-
mercials, as song by the Sportsmen, amuse.
RHHH^BBBHMM
Benny made them funny: Dennis Day (1) started
out as a singer; Don Wilson (r) an announcer;
Mary Livingstone (seated) as Jack's wife.
35
'■•■"""
. _
i Is
i • s
» g i
- Is
«
5S.
3 j E
J o S J
JmiSii
Without Radio Mirror, you'd
have as much trouble getting into
this studio as you would
have getting into Fort Knox
Studio audiences get a pre-broadcast show, loo.
IF YOU were visiting in Hollywood, Sunday
afternoon would probably find you lined up
with hundreds of others at the NBC studios,
trying to get in to see the Jack Benny Show.
Unfortunately, only 350 lucky folks can have
this privilege every week (that's all the studio
seats) so even if you were on the spot your
chances would be small. However, Radio Mir-
ror won't let you be stopped by mere time-and-
space limitations; with these pages we whisk
you past the crowds, through the great double
doors, into the silver-walled hush of the studio,
where you choose for yourself among the
maroon-upholstered seats. It's about 3:30 P.M.
Jt this point, half an hour before air time (4 PST,
EST) but you're not too early; you're just in
me for the pre-broadcast show with which
Benny cast warms-up itself and the audience
fore the "On the Air" signal turns red.
No Bione is leu unturned if there might be
something fanny underneath it— even the com*
mereials, aa sung by the Sportsmen, amuse.
Benny made them fonoy: Dennis Day (1) started
out as a singer; Don Wilson (r) an announcer;
Mary Livingstone (seated) as Jack's wife.
ITH
Young Ellen Brown comes to terms with a fundamental truth :
a woman without love — no matter how busy, how useful she is— is living only half a life
2. Nothing, Ellen discovered, is more necessary to a lonely,
confused woman than a friend she can wholeheartedly trust.
She has such a friend in shrewd, lovable Uncle Josh, a
farmer whose advice has helped her through many bad times.
3. One of the bad times was when ardent Dr. Peter Tun
awakened love Ellen had thought she would never feel aga
But, believing that Mark and Janey would suffer if
accepted the new- life "Peter offered, Ellen sent him aw
IN this backward look at the
exciting moments in Young
Widder Brown's life, you will find,
just as they are heard on the air:
Florence Freeman as Ellen Brown
Ned Wever Anthony Loring
Marilyn Erskine Janey Brown
Vrline Blackburn Barbara Storm
Alexander Scourby . ._ Herbert Temple
Dorothy Francis Victoria Loring
Tom Hoier Uncle Josh
Alice Your m an Maria Hawkins
Young Widder Brown, con-
ceived and produced by Frank
and Anne Hummert, is heard
Mondays through Fridays at 4: 45
P.M. EST, on NBC.
t. Then wealthy, glamorous Herbert Temple tried to sea
the wall Ellen had built around her heart. Security, fo
tune, love lay at Ellen's feet — but once again the childre
fearful of sharing their mother with a "stranger." trinmphe
37
ELLEN BROWNS
TEA ROOM
X
THROll
Young Ellen Brown o
a woman without love — no matter how busy h
omes to terms with a fundamental truth:
°w "seful she is— is living only half a life
H
"^"r^
2. Nothing, Ellen discovered, is more necessary to a lonely.
confused woman than a friend she can wholeheartedly trust.
She has such a friend in shrewd, lovable Uncle Josh, ;i
farmer whose advice has helped her through many bad times.
i- One of the bad time* was when ardent Dr. PeOU Tun
awakened love Ellen bad thought sh«- would never f.-rl Rfta
But, believing that Mark and Jnney would rnffer it j
accepted the new life Peter offered, Ellen sent him aw.
1 . When her husband died, Ellen Brown wag
left atone with two children to support.
She opened a lea room in the little town
of SimpBonville — the tea room that still
is her means of livelihood. Although a
young woman and an attractive one, Ellen
felt that romance was over for her, that
her duty to Mark, her son, and Janey, her
daughter, must come before anything else.
IN this backward look at the
exciting moments in Young
Widder Brown's life, you will find,
just as they are heard on the air:
Florence Freeman as Ellen Brown
Ned Worn Anthony Loring
Marilyn Er.tmc Janey Brown
Arline Blackburn Barbara Storm
Alexander Scourby . ._ Herbert Temple
Dorothy Francia Victoria Loring
Tom Hoter Uncle Joah
Alice Yourman Maria Hawkins
Young Widder Brown, con-
ceived and produced by Frank
and Anne Hummert, is heard
Mondays through Fridays at 4: 45
P.M. EST, on NBC.
r. Then wealthy, glamorous Herbert Temple tricil to *ca
the wall Ellen had built around her heart. Security, ft
tune, love lay at Ellen's feet — but once again the rhildre
fearful of charing their mother wilh j "stronger," triumph*
37
THROUGH THE TEARS WITH
5. Whenjbrilliant Dr. Anthony Loring came to Simpson-
ville's hospital, Ellen's peace of mind underwent its
most serious threat. For she was as passionately drawn
to the attractive, eligible Anthony as he was to her.
^ymm
6. After months of indecision, Ellen agreed to marry
Anthony. But his dictatorial, scheming sister Victoria,
who felt Anthony was wasting himself on Ellen, found a
way to stop the marriage just as the ceremony started.
8. Among the women Anthony attracted was Barbara
Storm. Knowing she could not win him, Barbara re-
venged herself by disappearing after arranging circum-
stances to make it seem that Ellen had murdered her.
9. Agonizing months followed, as Ellen tried to clear
herself of a crime that had never been committed. Even-
tually the truth emerged; Barbara was found and de-
clared insane. In a sanitarium, she still plots vengeance.
38
.^-^_
7. So relieved were Ellen's two children, Mark and Janey, that their mother had not been
"taken" from them by marriage that Ellen was almost glad her wedding plans had fallen
through. Though she offered to release Anthony from their engagement, he insisted that
he would wait, for he believes that some day Mark and Janey will accept him as a stepfather.
10. Ellen, as well as Anthony, had admirers. One was a
young lawyer, Johnny Brent. But Ellen did not need
well-meaning, gossipy Maria Hawkins to point out that
as a husband, Johnny might not be a very wise choice.
11. No, Ellen is certain that if any man is right for her,
it is Anthony. Troubled and incomplete as their rela-
tionship must be for the present, they look forward
hopefully to the richer life which the future offers.
39
"As if 'Blondie' weren't busy enough, she had
Cleo Kerley in to give her expert food lessons."
"I wouldn't know what to do if I couldn't hurry home from school,
swear Mother to secrecy, and tell her everything that's on my mind."
MY mother has a variety of names. Socially she
is Mrs. Robert S. Sparks. Professionally she is
Miss Penny Singleton. But. mostly she is
known by the name of an empty-headed radio
character which she plays over NBC every
Wednesday at 8:00 P.M. EST (5:00 PST),
Blondie Bumstead.
My mother has a variety of accomplishments.
One afternoon, for instance, when I was sick in
bed with a cold, and feeling doubly miserable be-
cause the afternoon was so dark and stormy, she
came to my room with paper and pencil and sug-
gested that we write a poem about the weather.
Perhaps some of my friends wouldn't be inter-
ested in passing time striving for rhyme, but I've
always been around people who have sort of a
literary approach to life, so it seemed like a fine
idea.
I didn't turn out anything it would give anyone
the least pleasure to remember, but Mother
outdid herself as usual. This is what she wrote:
By
DOROTHY
GRACE
SPARKS
Dear little rain drops
Falling from the skies,
Are you tears of happiness
From the angels' eyes?
Do you to us a message bring?
Clinging to each earthly thing
Seen and yet unseen?
Must mortals to the unknown land
Journey on, to understand?
I don't know another girl my age who has a
poetry-writing mother and a mother who is also
an actress, a singer, an equestrienne, a fashion
expert, a child psychologist, a postcard painter, a
stamp collector, a button collector, a quick change
artist, and the source of a million laughs.
You might think all these interests would keep
Penny Singleton very busy. They don't. She is
always looking around for something else to do.
For instance: it is sometimes difficult to keep a
maid, so Mother decided (Continued on page 92)
A growing-up daughter is likely to be her mother's severest critic.
But Penny Singleton Sparks, weighed by young Dorothy Grace, is found
perfect
40
IVnny Singleton, an Blondie. in heard Wednesday* at 8:00 P. M. KST, on NBC
"Daddy brought hamburgers home for fun, but he
had to admit the cooking lessons showed results."
"Daddy says Mother has enough energy to run a
power plant. She's always improving something!"
MV f/W0W£ MOT+lfR
"Aa if Blondie' weren't bmj enough, she bad
Cleo Kerley in lo give her expert food lei, on. .-
-Daddy brought hamburger, home (or fun. but hr
had to admit the rooking lr-,„n. .hoard result. ."
I] - Molhrr I
BOanat plant. She", al*.
ou.h r
upr«i, ii
MV f^Vowe Menn£R
wouldn't know What 10 do if I ronldn't hurry home from school,
.„,■.,, Mother, i« leciocy, and loll an everything that'i on m> rotod."
MY mother has a variety of names. Socially she
is Mrs. Robert S. Sparks. Professionally she is
Miss Penny Singleton. But mostly she is
known by the name of an empty-headed radio
character which she plays over NBC every
Wednesday at 8:00 P.M. EST (5:00 PST),
Blondie Bumstead,
My mother has a variety of accomplishments.
Due afternoon, for Instance, when I was sick in
bed with B cold, and feeling doubly miserable be-
cause the afternoon was so dark and stormy, she
, .mi. In mv room With paper and pencil and sug-
gested that we write a poem about the weather.
Perhaps some of my Extends wouldn't be inter-
ested In passing time striving for rhyme, but I've
always been around people who have sort of a
i approach to life, SO it seemed like a fine
idea.
1 didn't turn out anything it would give anyone
tin- least pleasure to remember, but Mother
outdid herself as usual. Tins is what she wrote:
ktolba
'-n'l tOO i I| f0l
I ,,iu in' ill., u it, w.
B>
DOROTHY
GRACE
SPARKS
Dear little rain drops
Falling from the skies.
Are you tears of happiness
From the angels' eyes?
Do you to us a message bring?
Clinging to each earthly thing
Seen and yet unseen?
Must mortals to the unknown land
Journey on, to understand?
I don't know another girl my age who lias is
poetry-writing mother and a mother who is also
an actress, a singer, an equestrienne, a fashion
expert, a child psychologist, a postcard painter, a
stamp collector, a button collector, a quick change
artist, and the source of a million laughs.
You might think all these interests would Seej
Penny Singleton very busy. They don't. She
always looking around for something else to _
For instance: it is sometimes difficult to keep
maid, so Mother decided (Continued on )>"<Jt •-
\ growing-up daughter is likely to be her mother's severest critic.
Hut Pennj Singleton Sparks, weighed by young Dorotltj Grace, is found . • • !"'' "
Arthur Lake, as Dag-wood, is heard Wednesdays on tt»e Blondie program, 8:00 P.M. EST, NBC.
Home comforts arc especially important to Arthur and Pat.
Arthur built the barbecue, but the whole family works at it.
^A
_
^-£;
N
HOUSING crisis? What's that?
Now before you start throwing things, let me
explain. I know the Arthur Lakes of Santa Mon-
ica, California, are not the only family in America
who have been struggling with the roof over the head
problem. And I know a lot of other families haven't
found any solution yet.
We wouldn't have either — except that we were des-
perate enough to take desperate measures. We bought
a haunted house!
We began to get frantic about a year ago. Pat and
the kids and I had been very comfortably settled, thank
you, in a pleasant little house — strictly in the Dagwood
tradition, short on the closets but plenty of charm — on
the rim of Santa Monica canyon overlooking the Pacific.
Everything was ducky until the family began to grow.
Nothing for the columnists mind you — Marion Rose is
four now and Arthur Patrick is almost six, and we have
no plans for more Winchell items — but just people.
Nice people, people we like. But people need bed-
rooms and a chance at a bathroom and some of those
danged closets.
First, Pat's father fell sick and we brought him to
our house. That meant nurses, and Pat's stepmother,
and a defiant old bull dog Pat gave her dad for a present
several years ago.
The skipper of our boat, "The Blondie," came back
from the Army, homeless, and moved in with us with his
wife and his daughter, Jeannie, who is four and a great
pal for Marion Rose. Then we got a new housekeeper
who came equipped with another child, this one a little
boy just right for a playmate for A. P.
It got very noisy. We began to go to our meals in
shifts. It began to look as though we'd better think
about moving. But where, in 1947?
Then, one evening when Pat and I were sitting on
the terrace waiting for our turn at the victuals, we hit
upon the great idea. Smack across the canyon, the dead
eyes of a half hundred dark windows stared at us from
a big, old, empty house. About the size of a nice hotel.
We had lived in our house for five years and had
never seen a light in the place.
"Look," I said to Pat, pointing.
"Ummmh," she replied unenthusiastically.
"Well, we could go and see it," I went on. "What
could we lose?"
"Our heads," she said. Practical Pat.
I began checking the next day, just the same. There
were practical points on my side, too.
I drove by first — couldn't see much. The place was
surrounded by a six-foot-high, three-foot-thick wall
overgrown with burned up ivy and half dead moss.
Through a wrought iron gate across the driveway, I
could see the house a quarter of a mile away, a mam-
moth thing with vaulted windows like a church, giant
archways, a tower thrown in for luck.
Well, there would be room enough. . .
I checked some more. A real (Continued on page 101)
•House of -haw Ness
Arthur Lake needed a roof for his family. It didn't
even matter that the roof he found leaked . . . and sheltered a ghost, too
By ARTHUR LAKE
With all this magnificence came one drawback; a ghost.
But the Lakes felt one more wouldn't matter . . .
•.♦.♦
♦»
•.♦.•
Il
^M
^ fr,
Xlr*Z&*&
M
, .. D^wood. U h«*H Wedn-d-T"
on i tve Bloodl'
.SiQOP.M. EST. NBC.
HOUSING crisis? What's that?
Now before you start throwing things, let me
explain. I know the Arthur Lakes of Santa Mon-
ica, California, are not the only family in America
who have been struggling with the roof over the head
problem. And 1 know a lot of other families haven't
found any solution yet.
We wouldn't have either — except that we were des-
perate enough to take desperate measures. We bought
a haunted house!
We began to get frantic about a year ago. Pat and
the kids and I had been very comfortably settled, thank
you, in a pleasant little house — strictly in the Dagwood
tradition, short on the closets but plenty of charm — on
the rim of Santa Monica canyon overlooking the Pacific.
Everything was ducky until the family began to grow.
Nothing for the columnists mind you — Marion Rose is
four now and Arthur Patrick is almost six, and we have
no plans for more Winchell items — but just people.
Nice people, people we like. But people need bed-
rooms and a chance at a bathroom and some of those
danged closets.
First, Pat's father fell sick and we brought him to
our house. That meant nurses, and Pat's stepmother,
and a defiant old bull dog Pat gave her dad for a present
several years ago.
The skipper of our boat, "The Blondie," came back
from the Army, homeless, and moved in with us with his
wife and his daughter, Jeannie, who is four and a great
pal for Marion Rose. Then we got a new housekeeper
who came equipped with another child, this one a little
boy just right for a playmate for A. P.
It got very noisy. We began to go to our meals in
shifts. It began to look as though we'd better think
about moving. But where, in 1947?
Then, one evening when Pat and I were sitting on
the terrace waiting for our turn at the victuals, we hit
upon the great idea. Smack across the canyon, the dead
eyes of a half hundred dark windows stared at us from
a big, old, empty house. About the size of a nice hotel
We had lived in our house for five years and had
never seen a light in the place.
"Look," I said to Pat, pointing.
"Ummmh," she replied unenthusiastically.
"Well, we could go and see it," I went on. "What
could we lose?"
"Our heads," she said. Practical Pat.
I began checking the next day, just the same. There
were practical points on my side, too.
I drove by first — couldn't see much. The place was
surrounded by a six-foot-high, three -foot -thick wall
overgrown with burned up ivy and half dead moss.
Through a wrought iron gate across the driveway, I
could see the house a quarter of a mile away, a mam-
moth thing with vaulted windows like a church, giant
archways, a tower thrown in for luck.
Well, there would be room enough. . .
I checked some more. A real (Continued on page 101)
H00SE OfH0fW£SS
ItukunJ^uu
THANKSGIVING DAY . . . 1948
Radio Mirror's Prize 'Poem
Not a mere feast day ... let this not be that . . .
But one of thanks, both simple and sincere,
That God has brought us to the harvest time . . .
The wintry edge of still another year.
Not a mere feast day, given to gluttony . . .
But, rather, one of asking God to bless
Our future days while praising Him for His
"Merciful dealing in the wilderness" . . .
To use the very words the Pilgrims used
That First Thanksgiving Day . . . our world,
ihdeed,
Being a wilderness, more vast than theirs,
Of fear and selfishness and hate and greed.
Not a mere feast day . . . but a day of prayer
Before all else ... of heart-meant prayer and
praise
That God has been a Lantern to our feet
And so will be down all the coming days.
. — Violet Alleyn Storey
POPCORN MAN
He sets his white cart where its brilliant light
Will make a little island in the night.
Let others shout their goods with raucous cries.
Skilled in long years of peddling, he is wise
To let his wares speak for themselves. He goes
By the subtler allurement of the nose.
Calmly oblivious to all the din.
The popcorn-man scoops fluffy" kernels in
White paper sacks, with steady practiced
hand.
Pretending not to see the hungry stand.
Mouths watering, coins clutched in waiting
fingers.
Then, with a dignified finesse, he lingers
Over each purchase, careful to a fault.
Pouring hot butter through, shaking the salt.
He plays his nightly role, sure of his fame.
They are the hovering moths to his bright
flame.
—Esther Baldwin York
THE ETERNAL RIDDLE
Side by side, though leagues apart,
He cannot read her woman-heart.
Yet he has wisdom— for a man-
He knows there's no one else who
-Isla Paschal Richardson
STORM CENTRE
When Grandpa's temper rose, the dishes
danced
Like dervishes upon the startled table;
Fido skulked out, his tail beween his legs;
We children kept as quiet as we were able.
But the storm soon ended, and the evening-
hours
Regained their poise, jogged to a gentle pace;
The dog slept near the round, red-bellied
stove,
And Grandma calmly tatted or made lace;
For Time had taught her this wise epigram: —
Ignored, the blustering lion becomes a lamb!
— Pauline Havard
UNINHIBITED
Today, I saw a bright green
cloud,
An elephant in pink,
A cow togged out in wild red
shorts —
Oh! No! I never drink!
A hen displayed a suit of
blue
Beside a purple pig.
And pumpkins on an apple
tree
Made my old eyes grow
big;
I blinked them twice and held
my breath.
And dared another look —
Relax, my friend; I'd only
found
My three-year-old's paint
book.
— Elizabeth Chapman
W A
.
.
<*KT^ ,S
■^ jflMta^
"MI*'v**',J4j*
SS3KN*
HE WIND SERPENS. THE DViS DRAW IN. NOW If THE TIME WHEN HEARTH
WITHOUT WORDS
Over the wind-lashed sand I walk alone;
Between ns lies the still unfathomed sea,
And there is nothing but the heart's mute
call
To bring your voice to me.
My thoughts go outward bound to that far
shore
From which you climb to heights I can-
not know,
Since all the moments that we held so dear
Were lost long, long ago/
A wave creeps to my feet: a gull drifts down,
So close its silver wing could touch my
cheek.
Oh, is it only thus you answer now, —
Now that you cannot speak?
— Eugenia T. Finn
JOURNEY'S END
(To a Young Repatriated Soldier)
The journey which began five years ago
Is ended, and the cycle is complete.
Now you are home . . . home to beloved hills
Which once have known the imprint of your
feet
Tracking the grouse, the rabbit and the fox;
Which loitered where the huckleberries made
The hillside, and your eyes, as blue as
heaven.
Where carefree laughter was a serenade
To summer's gifts. The secret swimming
hole;
The hidden shack high on a sunlit hill
Where you have dreamed a half-awakened
dream,
Or lain to watch the white shad-bushes spill
Their misty coins against the gathering dusk.
These hills shall hold the cameo of youth
In paths starred through the scarlet pim-
pernel.
We leave you cradled in their royal dust.
Taps sound their poignant notes . . . sleep »
well! Sleep well!
— Eunice Mildred LonCoske
t£z&
±
J&
LIFE'S STAGE
Ah. Petulant One,
Are you sure we have the time
For these small scenes —
Scenes with the downcast eye.
The frown, the sigh.
They take from Spring
Her sweet perfume
What then from us —
Who now have Summer's
bloom?
Open then your heart, my love.
And read the lines —
That cleanse the hurt
Why let it there abide — inside
We who should love and laugh
away
The few scenes left
We. have to play.
— Nancy Cavanagh
By TED MALONE
Be sure to listen to Ted
Malone's morning program,
Monday through Friday
at 11:30 EST, over ABC.
FOOLISH VIRGIN
Sue made a fool out of her man,
She was so honey-mouthed and cool.
Much cleverer was Maryanne —
She made a man out of her fool.
— Florence Denison
RADIO MIRROR will pay fifty dollar*
for the best original poem sent in each month by a reader. Five dollars
will be paid for each other original poem used on the Between the Book-
ends pages in Radio Mirror. Limit poems to 30 lines, and address to Ted
Malone, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42, N. Y. 17, N. Y. When postage is en-
closed, every effort will be made to return unused manuscripts. This is
not a contest, but an offer to purchase poetry for our Bookends pages.
It
-& ~&L
^Mf*
i
-»*/>
rtMiwlH
SSMNKt' M"fv
►«'i^t,:£v?«3ljr\
FIRE5 WARM THE BODV THANKSGIVING THOUGHTS WARM THE MIND
THANKSGIVING DAY
IJuWtU^lw
1948
Radio Mirror** rV«»'Peem
Nol a mm holt doy . . . lot thl» not be thot . . .
But one of thanks, both simple and sincere,
Thot Ood Hot brought ui to the horvirt Hms . - .
Th« wintry sdg» of "ill aneftier year.
Not a mora fooit day. giv«n to gluttony . ■ ■
But, rather, en* of asking God to bltn
Our futura dayt whll* pralilng Him for His
"Merciful dealing in the wildtrnui" ■ . -
tho vary wordt tho Pilgrim* uisd
Thot Fint Thonktgiving Doy ... our world,
Indeed,
Being a wilderness, mora vait than thiln.
Of fear and selfishness and hat* and greed.
Not a mora foast day ... but a day of prayer
Before all alio ... of heart-meant prayer and
probe
That Ood hoe bow • Urriam to oar foot
And 10 will bo down all tho coming day*.
—Violet AHoyn Storey
POPCORN MAN
He sets his white cart where its brilliant light
Will make a little island in the night
Let others shout their goods with raucous cries.
Skilled in long years of peddling, he is wise
To let his wares speak for themselves. He goes
By the subtler allurement of the nose.
Calmly oblivious to all the din.
The popcorn-man scoops fluffy kernels in
White paper sacks, with steady practiced
hand,
Pretending not to see the hungry stand.
Mouths watering, coins clutched In waiting
fingers.
Then, with a dignified finesse, he lingers
Over each purchase, careful to a fault.
Pouring hot butter Ihrou
Ho ploys his nightly • sura of - . toss*
THE ETERNAL RIDDLE
Side by side, though leagues apart,
Ho cannot read her woman-heart.
Yet he hai wisdom— for a man-
He knows there'* no one olio who
— Isla Paschal R (chord n
STORM CENTRE
When Grandpa's temper rose, the dish«
danced
Like dervishes upon the startled table;
Fido skulked out, his tail beween his lees-
We children kept as quiet as we were abU
But the storm soon ended, and the eveoiDjt-
hours
Regained their poise, jogged to a gende pace;
The dog slept near the round, red-bellied
stove,
And Grandma calmly tatted or made lace;
For Time had taught her this wise epigram:^
Ignored, the blustering lioo becomes a lamb!
— Pauline Havard
UNINHIBITED
Today, I saw a bright green
cloud.
An elephant in
A cow togged out
shorts —
Oh! No! I nevr
A hen displayed a suit of
blue
Beside a purple pig,
And pumpkins on an apple
tree
Made my old eyes grow
big;
I blinked them twice and held
my breath.
And dared ani
Relax, my friend ) only
found
My three-ye- paint
book.
— Eliiabei ^pman
WITHOUT WORDS
Over the wind-lashed sand I walk alone-
Between as lies the still □nfathomed sea.
And there is nothing but the heart's mate
call
To bring your voice to me.
My thoughts go outward bound to that far
shore
From which you climb to heights I can-
not know,
Since all the moments that we held so dear
Were lost long, long agoi
A wave creeps to my feet: a gull drifts down.
So close its silver wing could touch m\
cheek.
Oh. i? it only thus you answer now,—
Now that you cannot ipeak?
—Eugenia T. Finn
JOURNEY'S END
(To a Young Repatriated Soldier)
The journey which began five years ago
U ended, and the cycle is complete-
Now you are home . . . home to beloved hills
Which once have known the imprint of your
feet
Tracking the gTOUse, the rabbit and the fo\ :
Which loitered where the huckleberries made
The hillside, and your eyes, as blue as
heaven.
Where carefree laughter was a serenade
To summer's gifts. The secret swtmmine
hole;
The hidden shack high on a sunlit hill
Where you have dreamed a half-awakened
* +
to watch the white shad-h
ibty coins against the (tathr-.
ills shall hold the cameo oi
is starred through the scarlet pirn-
re you cradled in their royal dust,
und their poignant notes
LIFE'S STAGE
Ah, Petulant One.
Are you sure we have the tune
For these small scenes
Scenes with the downcast eve.
The frown, the sigh.
Thev take from Spring
Her sweet perfume
What then from us
Who now hare Summer's
bloom?
Open then raw heart my lore.
And read the aoee—
That cleanse the hurt
Why let It there abide- Inside
We who should lore and lavas
The few scenes left
We have to play.
— Nancy Cavanagh
FOOUSr-
Sus mod*
She wai
- vrsr *oi
She (On
RADIO MIRROR witt pay fifty Jaffa
for the best original poem sen'
will be p.>
ends pages in F
Mai one. Radio *
closed, every efl
not *
itSdhdua* «»*•■
THE WIND <HARPEN> THE DA\> DRAW IN. NOVC IS THE TIME WHEN HEART- :'«> WARM THE BODY. THANKSGIVING THOUGHTS WARM THE MIND
■ 'Iff I
Bill Slater has Bob Shepard, Minabess Lewis, and Kenny Delmar laughing as well as guessing on his Charades Quiz, Dumont,
Thurs. 8:30 P.M. In a different mood, Sam Wanamaker and Rita Colton in a scene from Henry V, on NBC Tele Playhouse.
THOSE of our readers who remember Gloria
Swanson as one of the most glamorous women
in America will be glad to know that Miss Swan-
son, now a grandmother and as lovely as ever, can
be seen and heard on television. Her program, The
Gloria" Swanson Hour, on every Wednesday after-
noon over WPIX, is done in four segments — enter-
tainment, cooking, beauty and fashion. The well-
known decorator Ormond Butler Riblet assisted in
designing a "dream house" — four rooms, each an
appropriate background for each part of the show.
After studying the particular needs of television
decoration, Mr. Riblet created small, important
groups within each room to hold the attention of
the audience and also to present a picture of perfect
taste. For the first phase of the show, an interesting
personality is interviewed. . A designer shows off his
latest creations in the second. Next, Pat Murray,
fashion editor, presents helpful beauty hints. The
final portion, "Chef's Holiday," features a guest
cooking expert who not only offers helpful sugges-
tions but also prepares, on the spot, his favorite
dish. In short, Gloria covers most of the things
dearest to a woman's heart against a perfect back-
ground.
* * *
Practically everyone is interested in the mystery
of the world of nature; but most of us feel that
comprehension of such things is beyond us. How-
ever, each week, oyer NBC television network, Dr.
RADIO MIRROR
The relationship of the earth (the head of the nail) and
son (the basketball) is demonstrated by Dr. Roy Marshall.
Clamorous as ever, Gloria
Swanson charms her audience
on The Gloria Swanson Hour.
Roy Marshall, astronomer, curator of Fels Planeta-
rium, editor, and lecturer, has proven that most of
the fascinating phenomena of nature can be simply
as well as interestingly presented. In the most in-
formal manner imaginable, and with the aid of
varied props, Dr. Marshall cracks the shell of
scientific secrets. Each week, he demonstrates his
theory, that "Science can be fun," by skillfully im-
parting to his audience the meaning of such terms
as "syzygy," as well as explaining to them (by
popping hard-boiled eggs in and out of a bottle)
the governing factors involved in air pressure. He
even ventures into the atomic mysteries. Last sum-
mer on the day of the yearly meteor shower (Au-
gust 12th), he explained this happening on his
broadcast, relating what meteors are, how they
travel in space, and how they fall. Yes, indeed,
science con be fun.
* * »
Television is getting over its growing pains — this
is best exemplified by the fact that the boners which
have been driving technicians and actors crazy are
fast disappearing. We know now, for instance, that
if a scene calls for the performers to eat ice cream,
the "ice cream" had better be mashed potato dis-
guised or it will melt instantly. The stories of how
enterprising directors got around the problems
presented by the heat of the lights are becoming
young legends. The man who put on his thinking
cap when the soap chips (Continued on page 110)
_■■■■■■■■■■■■
TELEVISION SECTIO
Beautiful Ireene Wicker, the "Singing Lady," enlivens one
of her dramatic stories with a song for WJZ-TV audience.
COAST to COAST i„
«i
*?
Bill Slater has Bob Shepard, Minabess Lewis, and Ke
Thurs. 8:30 P.M. Id a different mood, Sam Wanamaker
The relationship of the earth (the head of the nail)
son (the basketball) is demonstrated by Dr. Roy Marshall.
Delmar laughing as well as guessing on his Charades Quiz, DnmonL
and Rita Colton in a scene from Henry V, on NBC Tele Playhouse,
THOSE of our readers who remember Gloria
Swanson as one of the most glamorous women
in America will be glad to know that Miss Swan-
son, now a grandmother and as lovely as ever, can
be seen and heard on television. Her program, The
Gloria" Swanson Hour, on every Wednesday after-
noon over WPIX, is done in four segments — enter-
tainment, cooking, beauty and fashion. The well-
known decorator Ormond Butler Riblet assisted in
designing a "dream house" — four rooms, each an
appropriate background for each part of the show.
After studying the particular needs of television
decoration, Mr. Riblet created small, important
groups within each room to hold the attention of
the audience and also to present a picture of perfect
taste. For the first phase of the show, an interesting
personality is interviewed. . A designer shows off his
latest creations in the second. Next, Pat Murray,
fashion editor, presents helpful beauty hints. The
final portion, "Chef's Holiday," features a guest
cooking expert who not only offers helpful sugges-
tions but also prepares, on the spot, his favorite
dish. In short, Gloria covers most of the things
dearest to a woman's heart against a perfect back-
ground.
Practically everyone is interested in the mystery
of the world of nature; but most of us feel that
comprehension of such things is beyond us. How-
ever, each week, over NBC television network, Dr-
RADIO MIRROR
Roy Marshall, astronomer, curator of Fels Planeta-
rium, editor, and lecturer, has proven that most of
the fascinating phenomena of nature can be simply
as well as interestingly presented. In the most in-
formal manner imaginable, and with the aid of
varied props, Dr. Marshall cracks the shell of
scientific secrets. Each week, he demonstrates his
theory, that "Science can be fun," by skillfully im-
parting to his audience the meaning of such terms
as "syzygy," as well as explaining to them (by
popping hard-boiled eggs in and out of a bottle)
the governing factors involved in air pressure. He
even ventures into the atomic mysteries. Last sum-
mer on the day of the yearly meteor shower (Au-
gust 12th), he explained this happening on his
broadcast, relating what meteors are, how they
travel in space, and how they fall. Yes, indeed,
science can be fun.
Television is getting over its growing pains — this
is best exemplified by the fact that the boners which
have been driving technicians and actors crazy are
fast disappearing. We know now, for instance, that
if a scene calls for the performers to eat ice cream,
the "ice cream" had better be mashed potato dis-
guised or it will melt instantly. The stories of how
enterprising directors got around the problems
presented by the heat of the lights are becoming
young legends. The man who put on his thinking
cap when the soap chips (Continued on -page 110)
S I 0 N SEC
Beautiful Ireer
of her dramati>
Wicker, the "Singing Lady," enlivens one
stories with n song for WJZTV audience.
The Palace in New York — climax of any two-a-day career — was the
setting for the giant vaudeville show with which WJZ-TV premiered.
The premiere on Channel 7 proves-
BEFORE the city was up, on the
morning of August 10, ABC engi-
neers converged on the old Palace
Theater to set up the complex equip-
ment for the evening's great event — the
opening of New York's newest televi-
sion station, WJZ-TV. Promptly at 7
P.M. — appropriately enough, for the
new station comes in on Channel 7 —
New York's Mayor O'Dwyer intro-
duced the new station from ABC's
Radio City studios, and the WJZ-TV
cameras started covering the town.
They began with Times Square,
where a parade dramatizing the city's
growth during the past 50 years had
brought forth many striking relics of
the old da^s (one of them is pictured,
lower left). Back at ABC, several
programs made their television debuts.
But the acknowledged climax came
with the mammoth vaudeville show
from the Palace, where stars from vaude-
ville's heydey joined forces to prove
that even if vaudeville was once dead,
television will bring it back to life.
The parade which preceded the opening harked nos-
talgically hack to the old days, when this was a car.
Among the brilliant conglomeration of stars who
took part was dancer Ray Bolger, who acted as M. C.
48
RADIO MIRROR
if it needed proof — that vaudeville is far from dead
Beatrice Lillie tells a writer that her first Palace
appearance was a $10,000 week there, many years ago.
A battery of complicated equipment was arranged well
in advance of the evening performance at the Palace.
Singer Ella Logan, dancing team Raye and Naldi
enjoy one of the other acts while waiting to go on.
Radio's Maggi McNellis looking her glamorous best
for her part in the gala opening of Channel 7.
Except for Henry Morgan (1) this is a group of veteran
vaudevillians: Gus Van, Buck of Buck and Bubbles.
EL E VISION SECTION
49
1
m-if
The premiere on Channel 7
prov&
BEFORE the city was up, on the
morning of August 10, ABC engi-
neers converged on the old Palace
Theater to set up the complex equip-
ment for the evening's great event— the
opening of New York's newest televi-
sion station, WJZ-TV. Promptly at 7
P.M. — appropriately enough, for the
new station comes in on Channel 7—
New York's Mayor O'Dwyer intro-
duced the new station from ABC's
Radio City studios, and the WJZ-TV
cameras started covering the town.
They began with Times Square,
where a parade dramatizing the city's
growth during the past 50 years had
brought forth many striking relics of
the old days (one of them is pictured,
lower left). Back at ABC, several
programs made their television debuts.
But the acknowledged climax came
with the mammoth vaudeville show
from thePalace, where stars from vaude-
ville's heydey joined forces to prove
that even if vaudeville was once dead,
television will bring it back to life.
if it needed proof — that vaudeville is far from dead
The Palace in New York — climax of any two-a-day career — was the
setting for the giant vaudeville show with which WJZ-TV premiered.
The parade which preceded the opening harked nos-
talgically hack to the old days, when this was a car.
Among the brilliant conglomeration of stars who
took part was dancer Ray Bolger, who acted as M- C.
A hattery of complicated equipment was arranged n
in advance of the evening performance at the Palai
Beatrice Lillie tells a writer that her first Palace
appearance was a $10,000 week there, many years ago.
Singer Ella Lognn, dancing team Rnyc and EYaldi
enjoy one of the other acta while waiting to go on.
Radio's Maggi McNellis looking her glamorous best
for her part in the gala opening of Channel 7.
Except for
vaudevillii
iry Morgan 1 1 l ihi* t- B uroup of veteran
Gus Van, Buck of Muck and Bobbin.
^
RAVELER
As modern as 1914 is this month's
traveling school teacher, who swears by her
"Horseless Carriage" as a vehicle de luxe
» •
X
Ruth Witman wouldn't let Toniim
try t lie Overland till lie ■swis b
protected in duster and goggle
^il
OF THE MONTH
} NEVER knew how good those Good Old Days really
were until Miss Ruth Witman climbed out of her 1914
Overland roadster, dusted off her duster and became
our Traveler of the Month.
Though she's an attractive young Pennsylvania
schoolmarm with a manner as modern as plastic, she
brought with her all of the lost charm and begoggled
adventures of the Tin Lizzie era. And she had me think-
ing nostalgically of the days when life was no more
complicated than the gear-shift on a Stanley Steamer,
and things really were merry in that Merry Oldsmobile.
You see, Ruth Witman leads a double life. From nine
to three every day, she teaches Latin and French at
New Holland High School in Goodville, Lancaster Coun-
ty, Pennsylvania. But in the afternoons and evenings —
except for time spent marking papers, and teaching a
Sunday School class — she's busy collecting and rebuild-
ing antique cars. And if the kids at New Holland High
want to make a hit with teacher, they pass up the tradi-
tional apple and put a nice monkey wrench on her desk.
For when that French teacher looks into the motor of
an antiquated Stutz, it's strictly a case of Je vous aime.
She loves old cars, and she'll travel around the country
to find one, nurse it back to health and restore it to the
glory of its road-hogging youth.
When Miss Witman stepped up to the ABC micro-
phone at our Welcome Travelers broadcast at the
College Inn of the Hotel Sherman in Chicago, I had no
idea that this crisp-curled brunette would be equally
at home in a grease pit. She told me that she was a
school teacher on vacation, and as I often do with our
guests, I asked how she was traveling.
Her answer came with a perfectly straight face, and in
a matter of fact tone. She said:
'Tm driving a 1914 Overland Roadster — from Pennsyl-
vania to Milwaukee."
On Welcome Travelers we've had Dutch students who
were hitch-hiking, a family riding a tractor, British
bicyclists, even one courageous victim of polio who was
pulled along on his tricycle by his pet dog — yes, we had
had almost every means of locomotion. But never before
a car that was supposed to have gone out of commission
with Grandpa's mustache cup. So I asked Miss Witman
why she happened to be riding around in an auto built
before she was even born. Her answer, I think, was
interesting^-and another chapter in the fascinating,
never-ending story of America on the move.
"Old cars," Miss Witman said, "are my hobby. They're
fascinating — and something like a mystery story. You
search them out, then you track down original parts,
one by one, and you recreate, many years later, a living
entity from out of the lost past."
It developed that Miss Witman was on her way to
Milwaukee — 1,000 miles from (Continued on page 98)
TOMMY
BARTLITT
From the files if Welcome Travelers (Mon.-Fri., 12 N.
on ABC) come the stories which Tommy Bartlctt. the
program's M.C., retells each month (or Radio Mirror.
51
T
'EAYEIER
As modern as 1914 is this month's
traveling school teacher, who swears by her
"Horseless Carriage" as a vehicle de luxe
OF THE MONTH
1 NEVER knew how good those Good Old Days really
were until Miss Ruth Witman climbed out of her 1914
Overland roadster, dusted off her duster and became
our Traveler of the Month.
Though she's an attractive young Pennsylvania
schoolmarm with a manner as modern as plastic, she
brought with her all of the lost charm and begoggled
adventures of the Tin Lizzie era. And she had me think-
ing nostalgically of the days when life was no more
complicated than the gear-shift on a Stanley Steamer,
and things really were merry in that Merry Oldsmobile.
You see, Ruth Witman leads a double life. From nine
to three every day, she teaches Latin and French at
New Holland High School in Goodville, Lancaster Coun-
ty Pennsylvania. But in the afternoons and evenings —
except for time spent marking papers, and teaching a
Sunday School class — she's busy collecting and rebuild-
ing antique cars. And if the kids at New Holland High
want to make a hit with teacher, they pass up the tradi-
tional apple and put a nice monkey wrench on her desk.
For when that French teacher looks into the motor of
an antiquated Stutz, it's strictly a case of Je vous aime.
She loves old cars, and she'll travel around the country
to find one, nurse it back to health and restore it to the
glory of its road-hogging youth.
When Miss Witman stepped up to the ABC micro-
phone at our Welcome Travelers broadcast at the
College Inn of the Hotel Sherman in Chicago, I had no
idea that this crisp-curled brunette would be equally
at home in a grease pit She told me that she was n
school teacher on vacation, and as I often do with our
guests, I asked how she was traveling.
Her answer came with a perfectly straight face, and in
a matter of fact tone. She said:
"I'm driving a 1914 Overland Roadster — from Pennsyl-
vania to Milwaukee."
On Welcome Travelers we've had Dutch students who
were hitch-hiking, a family riding a tractor, British
bicyclists, even one courageous victim of polio who was
pulled along on his tricycle by his pet dog — yes, we had
had almost every means of locomotion. But never before
a car that was supposed to have gone out of commission
with Grandpa's mustache cup. So I asked Miss Witman
why she happened to be riding around in an auto built
before she was even born. Her answer. I think, WM
interesting-r-and another chapter in the fascinating
never-ending story of America on the move.
"Old cars," Miss Witman said, "are my hobby. They're
fascinating— and something like a mystery story. You
search them out, then you track down original parts,
one by one, and you recreate, many years later, a living
entity from out of the lost past."
It developed that Miss Witman was on her way to
Milwaukee — 1,000 miles from (Continued on page 98)
By
TOMMY
BARTLtTT
Prom Ik. tl~ »l W.lcomo Tr.roltr. (Moo. -CI., 12 N
on ABC) eomo Ibo Honor, whir* Tommy BortUll, liio
prolrom'r. M.C, roliH, t«cb moolh lot Hodio Mirror
Art, who had no family for many of his youngest
years, is a full-time father to his own brood.
IF parties at Art Linkletter's home were as
easy of access as the hilarious free-for-
alls he stages for fifteen million or so
listeners to his House Party and People Are
Funny radio programs, the guests 'undoubt-
edly would be legion; the guy has a draw.
Undoubtedly, also, they would arrive with
protective boards in their pants and a handy
packet of cleansing tissues for removing cus-
tard pie from the hair. For the public knows
anything goes when Art is planning the fun.
But, for the record, they would be disap-
pointed. There are frequent parties at Art's
house in Hollywood, but they're small —
exclusive even, if you define the word as
excluding all except one's very best friends —
and they're quiet, and in deference to an un-
breakable house rule, there are no games!
Art gets his fill of artificially-stimulated fun
on his radio programs.
Once behind the six foot concrete wall
which divides his amazing mid-town estate
from the busy town and all the "funny" peo-
ple, he wants a different kind of fun — relax-
ing with his pretty wife, Lois, and their four
wonderful children, a cool plunge in the pool
and then lazy baking in the sun, dinner early
with all the family, a walk in the nearby
hills with the whole family again, a wrestling
match on the television set, perhaps, and
then bed.
e
ww cm
ART
& \Juit
UIKLETTE
By POLLY TOWNSEND
Although their house is only a block from
the Sunset Strip, address of some of the
world's most famous night spots — Ciro's, Mo-
cambo, La Rue — the Linkletters haven't been
in a night club in years.
Crowds, smoky rooms, drinks have no
charm for Art, arid fortunately for their
happy marriage Lois is just as partial to
quiet suppers for a few friends with no
"entertainment" except good food and good
talk.
Some of their close friends are in show
business, too. The Ozzie Nelsons, Charlie
Corrells, the Sid Strotzes, Alene Leslie, are
frequent guests. But so are young lawyers,
doctors, writers whose names would mean
nothing to the public, but whose work is
even more interesting to Art than his own.
The lawyers' factual minds fascinate him —
he wants to know the details, not just the
verdict, in Jack Leslie's latest court case.
And he thinks it would be stupid to spend
an evening at gin rummy when he can find
out about fabulous new drugs being used in
the treatment of tuberculosis.
"Why, I've been at parties in Hollywood
where the guests included world-famous
novelists, scientists, diplomats ... I have
simply drooled for a chance to talk with
them . . . and what happens? Before the
coffee cups are out (Continued on page 77)
Art's house is big an
Art Linklctter is m.c. of
House Party, CBS, lYlon.-
Fri., 3:30 P.M. EST, and
of People Are Funny, NBC,
Tues.,.at 10:30 P.M. EST.
52
games— because playing games is Art s daily
Robert, Sharon and Art hold a make-believe con-
versation with sister Dawn, who's away at camp.
On Art's lap, Robert,
4; on Lois's lap, 2-
year-old Sharon. Jack,
11, sports his Black
Foxe school uniform.
imptuous, but it's not a Hollywood mansion. It's a home for the Linkletter family.
■j***
¥
^s
I
Art, who had no family lor many of his youngest
years, ie a full-time father to his own hrood.
Come; emu Visit
ART
IIIKLETTI
IF parties at Art Linkletter's home were as
easy of access as the hilarious free-for-
alls he stages for fifteen million or so
listeners to his House Party and People Are
Funny radio programs, the guests -undoubt-
edly would be legion; the guy has a draw.
Undoubtedly, also, they would arrive with
protective boards in their pants and a handy
packet of cleansing tissues for removing cus-
tard pie from the hair. For the public knows
anything goes when Art is planning the fun.
But, for the record, they would be disap-
pointed. There are frequent parties at Art's
house in Hollywood, but they're small —
exclusive even, if you define the word as
excluding all except one's very best friends —
and they're quiet, and in deference to an un-
breakable house rule, there are no games!
Art gets his fill of artificially -stimulated fun
on his radio programs.
Once behind the six foot concrete wall
which divides his amazing mid- town estate
from the busy town and all the "funny" peo-
ple, he wants a different kind of fun — relax-
ing with his pretty wife, Lois, and their four
wonderful children, a cool plunge in the pool
and then lazy baking in the sun, dinner early
with all the family, a walk in the nearby
hills with the whole family again, a wrestling
match on the television set, perhaps, and
then bed.
By POILY TOWNSEND
Although their house is only a block from
the Sunset Strip, address of some of the
world's most famous night spots — Ciro's, Mo-
cambo, La Rue — the Linkletters haven't been
in a night club in years.
Crowds, smoky rooms, drinks have no
charm for Art, arid fortunately for their
happy marriage Lois is just as partial to
quiet suppers for a few friends with no
"entertainment" except good food and good
talk.
Some of their close friends are in show
business, too. The Ozzie Nelsons, Charlie
Corrells, the Sid Strotzes, Alene Leslie, are
frequent guests. But so are young lawyers,
doctors, writers whose names would mean
nothing to the public, but whose work is
even more interesting to Art than his own.
The lawyers' factual minds fascinate him —
he wants to know the details, not just the
verdict, in Jack Leslie's latest court case.
And he thinks it would be stupid to spend
an evening at gin rummy when he can find
out about fabulous new drugs being used in
the treatment of tuberculosis.
"Why, I've been at parties in Hollywood
where the guests included world-famous
novelists, scientists, diplomats ... I have
simply drooled for a chance to talk with
them . . . and what happens? Before the
coffee cups are out (Continued on page 77)
Robert, Sharon and bthold . n.A«-l.,li, ,, eon
nmtioD ».il» ibtei Dawn, whVi ..*.«> ,,i amp.
nmpiuous, but it's not a Hollywood mansion
Art Linklctt« U m.c -"
Hou-o Panj.r.US, Mo-.-
Fri.. 3=30 P.M. EST.M*
of People A.
Tue».,.
. e Funnj, NBC
0:30 P.M. EST-
family.
By PAULINE SWANSON
IF Jo Stafford were to write her own theme song,
it might go something like this: "I'm Taking it
Easy on the Crest of the Wave."
Back home in her native California, relaxing in a
casual- and comfortable house in Westwood, out
oceanway from Los Angeles, she' seems as unper-
turbed by her spectacular success as she was by the
hurdles- on the way to the top.
Five blocks away on the U.C.L.A. campus, couples
cluster about fraternity house phonographs, listen-
ing to the new Jo Stafford records, helping to make
Jo a high-ranking girl among American recording
stars.
In the college hangout down the block, the juke
box eats nickels from more Jo Stafford fans — and
Jo turns up Number One again, the Juke Box
Queen for 1947.
And all over the pretty little University town
radios are tuned in regularly to the Supper Club,
and there's Jo again — now in her role as far and
away one of the most popular girl singers on the
air.
But the windows of Jo's cozy hilltop house face
away from the campus, and the hangouts and the
town, and look across the roof-tops to the Pacific
Ocean, which goes on pounding in, ebbing out, day
in, day out, no matter who wins what poll. Jo likes
to look at it, shining like a compact mirror on a
bright day, a black patch at the edge of the lights
at night, and although she would laugh herself sick
at any notion that her favorite view is symbolic,
it is significant that all of the hoopla about Jo has
had remarkably little effect on her values.
It was less than ten years ago when Jo — a freckle-
faced kid barely out of high school — made her
radio debut in a "sister-act," singing with her
sisters Pauline and Christine in the Stafford Sis-
ters Trio.
. "Jo never made a fuss about her singing," big
sister Chris — now Jo's personal secretary. — says.
"She felt it, she liked it. If she weren't doing it for
money, she'd have been doing it for fun. It's still
like that."
The ensuing fame, and the pockets full of money,
have had very little visible affect on Jo — she's still
the same relaxed and happy kid, comfortably sloppy
in low heels and a collegienne's sweater and skirt,
her calmness making even the calm Crosby seem
hyperthyroid by comparison.
Jo is a girl with three big enthusiasms — her fam-
ily, her singing and her friends. Occasionally she
bubbles up a bit over something new — at the mo-
ment her new house, the first home of her own she
has ever had — which she is decorating at her own
leisurely pace, strictly as the spirit moves her.
"We lost a davenport today," she will say, giving
the line something of a "we lost a tooth" inflection.
The davenport, which Christine explains had been
shriekingly the wrong color, had been with them for
weeks before Jo got around to replacing it.
Although Jo insists that it's not half done, the
house looks pleasantly rubbed down and lived in.
The efforts of her five-year-old great-nephew
Christopher are not to be sniffed at in the rubbing-
down process. His toy violin is on the grand piano,
along with the songs in manuscript which Jo is
working up, his heel marks are on the bannisters,
and his jellied fingerprints all over the breakfast
room table.
Embers from last evening's fire are still glowing
in the grate in the den, easily the most cheerful
room in the house. The big comfortable chairs are
strong red and yellow, the rug is bright green. The
card table, where Jo and Chris like to sit up late
playing rummy, is a good noisy red as well.
For more "tone" Jo conducts you through the
formal living room and dining room. The living
room has been done in brown — notably in lush
quilted velvet valances over the big view windows
— and chartreuse, and looks bigger than it is because
of the mirrored fireplace. The eighteenth century
mahogany pieces in the dining room show off to
advantage against a pale blue and rose floral wall-
paper.
"Pretty, isn't it?" asks Jo, adding "We always eat
in the breakfast room."
^yjt \w\rn and oA wc^t^jtrbt^GxA live* trtj cne mjIl: lie Um allowed
54
No career-conscious tension is ever allowed inside Jo's designed-for-easy-living home in Westwood, near Los Angeles.
Brisk workroom atmosphere is not Jo's style; her seven-by-seven
bed often doubles as a desk. Sister Christine (right, with Jo) shares
both the house and most of Jo's interests, including gin rummy.
w
*
4jfl
Five-year-old Chris is an almost constant visitor
— his great-aunt Jo is as fond of eating as he is.
Cheerful maid Cleo is a behind-the-scenes genius; Jo
can safely sketch a menu and leave the details to her.
Jo Stafford in heard on Mon.-Wed.-Fri. Supper
<:iul> ItroadcaoU, on NBC at 7 P.M. EST.
^Mk MiA In
Lamp designing is a hobby with Jo;
the ballerina-legs are her brain-
Decorator Jo really got down to business when she
got to the two big bedrooms — her own and Christine's
— at the back of the house.
"We're girls who like our sleep," she admits, as
she proudly displays the two "Hollywood" seyen-by-
seven beds, Chris's with an old-rose quilted headboard,
Jo's with electric blue satin.
It's pretty hard to look at the rooms without yawn-
ing sleepily. If you're just half-sleepy, you can turn
down the big bed for a chaise — Jo's fits into a curving
wall of windows with a view of the ocean going about
its leisurely business five miles down the slope.
Next to big beds, Jo's passion is for lamps — and she
has outdone herself designing the bedside pairs for
the bedrooms. The bases for Christine's are entwined
pink cupids, the shades pink fluff. Jo's are even
headier — if that is the word for bases made like danc-
ers' legs, and shades which simulate ruffled can-can
skirts.
The house, with its accents on comfort and fun, fits
Jo like one of her own low-heeled shoes, despite the
fact that she has been in it for only a few weeks.
It's too new yet to be "home," as she reveals when
she tells you that she and Christine "go home" every
weekend.
"Home" is in Long Beach, where Jo's mother and
father live in the big old house Jo bought for them
children^ as are the fat pink Cupids
in Christine's room, (not shown).
Jo spends her days in casual sports clothes and makeup.,
but turns herself out with glamor-plus for broadcast?.
with the first really important earnings of her career.
The baby of the four Stafford sisters, Bette Jane,
and her husband and five-month-old son, Kim, live in
Long Beach too, as do Christine's daughter, Marjorie
Folz, and — when he's not visiting Aunt Jo — five-year-
old Christopher.
The weekend reunions are traditional for the whole
family, and Sunday wouldn't be Sunday for any of
them without one of mama's southern fried chicken
dinners.
Pauline, now living in New York with her husband,
Galen Drake, mopes every Sunday from homesickness,
the other girls say, despite the fact that she manages
at least three times a year to join the rest of the family
for a holiday.
It was in these family conclaves that the Stafford
sisters first learned to sing together, and this they still
do — strictly for laughs and fun. When they aren't
singing they're playing charades — everybody but little
Kim participates in The Game.
If Jo had her way, these family parties and a few
informal get-togethers with the gang she works with
in the recording studio and on her radio show would
take care of her social life.
"She's never been much for parties, especially big
ones," Christine explains. "The trouble with that is,
there are so many people she should entertain — people
she really likes who have been terribly nice to her.
We've started once or twice to plan a dinner party,
made up guest lists and menus. Jo tries to stay
interested, but she bogs down early. 'You do it, Chris,'
she says finally, 'you know how.' And I know how
she really feels, so we just skip it, until later. Usually
until too much later."
As a result, the "parties" at Jo's house in Westwood
are much more apt to take on the atmosphere of a
kaffee-klatsch after a broadcast or a recording date,
with Paul Weston, Jo's conductor and very special
friend, on hand, along with Bob Packham, who pro-
duces the western Supper Club shows, Fred Heider,
who writes them, and the five Star Lighters.
If Jo is feeling particularly energetic, she will put
on an apron and make chili and beans — her favorite
dish. If she isn't, and she frequently isn't, they all talk
Cleo, the cheerful maid, into making spaghetti, or send
out for hamburgers.
Jo's friends wonder audibly when she and Paul
Weston will take out a marriage license, but Jo says
quietly that "it hasn't come to that yet."
. They have been friends for years. It was Paul, when
he was arranging for Tommy Dorsey, who recom-
mended the Pied Pipers to his boss, and thus got Jo —
who was the only girl with the group — her first break
in big time radio. Since she (Continued on pag< 7(>)
57
Five-year-old Chris is an almost constant visitor
— bis gn-ut-uunt Jo is as fond of eating a* he is.
Cheerful maid Cleo i> a lit-himl-the-srenes genius; Jo
rim safely sketch u menu and leave the detail* to her.
Jo Stafford in hrurd on Mon.- Wodt-FM. Suppw
Clab l>r*.«.irn.t., on NBC ftt 7 P.M. EST.
%lkdii\){
HOLLYWOOD
Lamp designing is a hobb
the ballerina-legs are '
Decorator Jo really got down to business when she
got to the two big bedrooms — her own and Christine's
— at the back of the house.
"We're girls who like our sleep," she admits, as
she proudly displays the two "Hollywood" seven-by-
seven beds, Chris's with an old-rose quilted headboard,
Jo's with electric blue satin.
It's pretty hard to look at the rooms without yawn-
ing sleepily. If you're just half-sleepy, you can turn
down the big bed for a chaise — Jo's fits into a curving
wall of windows with a view of the ocean going about
its leisurely business five miles down the slope.
Next to big beds, Jo's passion is for lamps — and she
has outdone herself designing the bedside pairs for
the bedrooms. The bases for Christine's are entwined
pink cupids, the shades pink fluff. Jo's are even
headier — if that is the word for bases made like danc-
ers' legs, and shades which simulate ruffled can-can
skirts.
The house, with its accents on comfort and fun, fits
Jo like one of her own low-heeled shoes, despite the
fact that she has been in it for only a few weeks.
It's too new yet to be "home," as she reveals when
she tells you that she and Christine "go home" every
weekend.
"Home" is in Long Beach, where Jo's mother and
father live in the big old house Jo bought for them
children, as are the fat pink Cupids
in Christine's room, (not shown).
with the first really important earnings of her career.
The baby of the four Stafford sisters, Bette Jane,
and her husband and five -month -old son, Kim, live in
Long Beach too, as do Christine's daughter, Marjorie
Folz, and — when he's not visiting Aunt Jo — five-year-
old Christopher.
The weekend reunions are traditional for the whole
family, and Sunday wouldn't be Sunday for any of
them without one of mama's southern fried chicken
dinners.
Pauline, now living in New York with her husband,
Galen Drake, mopes every Sunday from homesickness,
the other girls say, despite the fact that she manages
at least three times a year to join the rest of the family
for a holiday.
It was in these family conclaves that the Stafford
sisters first learned to sing together, and this they still
do — strictly for laughs and fun. When they aren't
singing they're playing charades— everybody but little
Kim participates in The Game.
If Jo had her way, these family parties and a few
informal get-togethers with the gang she works with
in the recording studio and on her radio show would
take care of her social life.
"She's never been much for parties, especially big
ones," Christine explains. "The trouble with th
there are so many people she should entertain— people
.1" gpendi her days In casual sporli cloths* and makeup,
but turns henelf odi wiili sjamorphu f<.r broadcnl
she really likes who have been terribly nice to her
We've started once or twice to plan .1 dtnnei pui
made up guest lists and menus. Jo dies bo
interested, but she hogs down early. 'You do it, Chris,'
she says finally, 'you know how.' And I know how
she really feels, so wc just skip It, until lain Usually
until too much later."
As a result, the "pai ■■■ house In West wood
are much more apt to take on tin atmosphere, ol ■
kaffee-klatsch after .1 bioadrast 01 B recording dote.
with Paul Weston, Jo's conductor and very special
friend, on hand, along with Bob Packham, who pro-
duces the western Supper Club shows, Fred Held
who writes them, and the five Star Ugh
If Jo is feeling particularly energetic, she will pui
on an apron and make chili and beans- her favorite
dish. If she isn't, and she Frequently Isn't, they all talk
Cleo, the cheerful maid, into making spaghetti, 01 send
out for hamburgers.
Jo's friends wonder audibly when she and Paul
Weston will take out a marriage license, but Jo says
quietly that "it hasn't come to that yet.''
They have been friends for years. It was Paul, when
he was arranging for Tommy Dorsey, who recom-
mended the Pied Pipers to his boss, and thus got Jo —
who was the only girl with the group— her first b
in big time radio. Since she (Continued on pan-
Bob Smith's little friend a mere puppet? Why, he's a per-
son in his own right, his admirers, young and old, insist!
4Wly Doodys DADDY
^efrne you vote, cowtid&i
candidate. t£e efajtdnen'4> c&oice
Bob Smith, left, has no political aspirations,
but when he created puppet Howdy Doody he found
he had a presidential candidate on his hands.
Now, besides a morning Bob Smith Show, Bob runs
a Howdy Doody campaign on WNBC and
WNBT. From young members of the "Peanut
Gallery" — the studio audience — like those above,
come the "Thingamagigs" for Howdy's platform.
BOB SMITH, whose widest fame has come as creator
and campaign manager of the puppet Howdy
Doody, has been a "little-bit-of -everything" man
in radio for the past fifteen years; he's thirty now.
After an actively musical childhood, Bob found a spot
on WGR in Buffalo, his home town, and became a well-
known local personality. In 1944, while he was running
his own show on WBEN, NBC decided he was big-time
talent and brought him to WNBC in New York City to
do the early-morning (6:30 EST, Mon.-Sat.) Bob
Smith Show.
In March, 1947, Bob added NBC's Triple B Ranch to
his schedule, and Howdy Doody came into the world.
As fun-and-quiz-master on this Saturday morning
(9 A.M. EST) program for juniors, Bob decided he
needed a foil for his quips. At first, he merely an-
swered himself back in another voice, which he called
"Howdy Doody." But as time went by Bob realized
that his youthful studio audiences were very disap-
pointed at not being able to see Howdy. So the gang-
ling, yellow-haired puppet took physical form, and
raced into favor with such meteoric speed that NBC,
when it caught its breath, built the Howdy Doody
televison show around him (Mon.-Fri., 5:30 P.M.)
Bob's programs still consist of a "bit of everything"
— music, games, quizzes and so on — but the important
thing right now is, of course, Howdy's campaign for
president. It's complete with buttons, a campaign song
and ardent young supporters writing in from wher-
ever WNBC and NBT are heard to offer their sugges-
tions for Howdy's platform. He's the choice of the
Peanut Gallery (that's what Bob calls his studio
audience) and they are the voters of the future!
Working more than twelve hours per week on the
air, plus rehearsal and "thinking" time, hasn't left Bob
Smith much leisure. But starting this fall his family —
his mother, wife Margaret, sons Ronnie and Robin —
will see more of him. NBC is building a studio in the
basement of the Smith home in New Rochelle, from
which Bob's broadcasts will come from now on.
59
D
]
H
imm
H
Plank It
SOUNDS hard? Not at all; planking a meal is really an easy
way to serve it. And it makes a feast out of an ordinary
dinner. One of the most delightful meals I can remember
was hamburger patties ' served on a plank. Around the edge
were creamy whipped potatoes, toasted to a golden brown,
little whole carrots, tiny ruby beets and a serving each of
buttered stringbeans. The vegetables, of course, are cooked
first. Then, instead of being put on serving dishes, they are
heaped on a plank in an attractive arrangement. The meat,
whether it is beef steak, lamb chops, broiled chicken or fish,
is the center of attraction.
If you haven't a plank, ask your husband to help make you
one. It's easy to do. Then place the decorated plank, festive
and beautiful, on your largest platter to serve.
How to Make a Plank
Select a piece of wood (oak or other hardwood) approx-
imately 12" x 18" and from 1" to 2" thick. On it trace the
outline of a fish or an oval or round about the size you want.
If there is a knot in the wood try to space it so that it is not
near the edge. If you are making a plank fish-shaped, arrange
the knot to come where the eye would. With a band saw or
coping saw, cut around the fish outline. To finish, round off
the top edges and mark juice grooves with a file. You can
gouge out with a chisel a well or depression and a tree for
catching the juices. Finish wood by sandpapering edges till
they are smooth.
To Season a New Plank
Soak plank in cold water overnight. Rub thoroughly with
oil or suet. Warm slowly to heat thoroughly (250° for one
hour). Edges should be protected with oil. To clean plank,
scrape, wash and rinse and allow to dry slowly. Always use
a plank which has been oiled and preheated.
Chopped Beef on a Plank
P/2 pounds chopped beef
salt
pepper
chopped onions
6 small carrots cleaned and
cooked
sliced beets
1V2 cups cooked mashed potatoes
Good food is always the hand-
somest decoration for a table, but
for an extra-appetizing touch
try planking your main course.
Mix together beef, salt, pepper and onions. Shape into three
square patties. Preheat broiling compartment and pan for 10
minutes. Place patties on broiling pan about 3 inches from the
source of the heat. Broil about 8 minutes. Turn patties over
and transfer to a heated, oiled wooden plank. Garnish the
patties with the carrots and beets. With a pastry tube or spoon,
place a decorative row of mashed potatoes around the edge of
the plank. Place in broiling compartment and broil for 5
minutes. Makes 6 servings.
With Chopped Beef
Borders: Mashed Irish and sweet potatoes in various forms.
Bananas, halved lengthwise. Grilled pineapple slices. Cooked
apple or peach quarters or apricot halves. Mashed squash,
turnip. (Continued on page 79)
By KATE SMITH
RADIO MIRROR
FOOD COUNSELOR
Listen to Kate Smith Speaks
at 12 Noon each weekday, on
stations of the IVIutual nctu ork.
61
The Guiding Light that shines from the study of Dr. Matthews has led many troubled souls to peace
i
M
62
. but peace was not the goal of the man who called himself Ray Brandon
ON graduation night Cantwell High,
in one of the nicest sections of Los
Angeles, had two guests from the
melting-pot community of Selby Flats.
One, Dr. Charles Matthews, pastor of
the Church of the Good Samaritan in
Selby Flats, was known to all the audi-
ence. He sat next to the principal in
the center of the front row of seats on
the stage. He was the speaker of the
evening.
The other stood at the very back of
the room, in the deepest shadow of the
balcony, so that even if anyone in the
audience chanced to turn his head, he
could not be seen. His name was Ray
Brandon; he was only about three
weeks old. But he knew about life, its
twists and turnings, its way of trying
to trap a man who wanted no part of it.
Only three weeks ago, the day before
the warden of the state prison had
turned the key that permitted Roger
Barton to go free and to change his
name, Dr. Matthews had spoken at the
prison. It had been a moving speech,
so moving that the brand-new Ray
Brandon had had a crazy, irresistible
impulse. His first act as a free man
had been to go to see Dr. Matthews and
to tell him just what he thought of his
high-sounding phrases about the broth-
erhood of man.
Then he'd got a job as a stock clerk —
pretty good for a man who had a col-
lege degree in business administration
and who knew as much law as many
practising lawyers — and had ironically
given Dr. Matthews' name as a refer-
ence. Then he had had a visit from a
woman named Julie Collins, who had
once been Julie Barton. Julie was here
tonight, too, with her husband, Frank
Collins. She was here to listen proudly
while her son, young Roger Barton,
delivered the valedictory address for
the graduating class of Cantwell High.
Oh, yes, life was cunning; it was
already trying to claim Ray Brandon.
Dr. Matthews had forgiven him his im-
precations and had given him a good
recommendation for his job. Julie was
married to another man; she had borne
him two children, but her eyes had told
Ray Brandon that she loved him. Her
lips had said, "I hope we can be friends.
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Charlotte looked up at Ray, her face raining tears as frank as a
child's. He couldn't stop himself ... he put his arms around her.
But young Roger has grown up believ-
ing that you were dead, as you wished.
I hope you realize the impossibility of
— of projecting yourself into his life in
any way." But her eyes had told him
that she loved him.
Well, she needn't worry. He'd told
her he'd forgotten the boy completely.
She'd married Frank to give young
Roger a good home, a good life, and it
was all right with him. He'd told Julie
so, told her that a father's feelings
weren't nearly as strong as a mother's.
And they weren't, were they? He was
here tonight only out of — curiosity. To
see what sort of man the little boy he'd
known had become.
Julie needn't worry about his having
anything to do with young Roger. Dr.
Matthews could preach to someone else
about the brotherhood of man and for-
giving and forgetting and making a
fresh start. Ray Brandon wanted noth-
ing life had to offer. He was existing
for just one purpose. When it was ac-
complished, he wouldn't care what hap-
pened.
Dr. Matthews was speaking — pray-
ing. "Almighty God, may Your guid-
ing light shine down upon these young
folks who hold destiny in their hands.
May it direct them down paths of un-
derstanding, tolerance, and brotherly
love. May it help them to build a
world of unselfishness and faith, a
world that will be a promise of Your
heavenly kingdom. Amen . . ." He
lifted his head, addressed the audience
directly. "It gives me great pleasure
now to present to you the valedictorian
of the Cantwell High School graduating
class ... Roger Collins."
Collins — so he was using his step-
father's name. Not that it mattered,
of course. Ray braced himself. The
boy was getting up, coming forward on
the stage — and the face that looked out
across the footlights was Ray's own
face as it had been fifteen-odd years
ago.
"Principal Clark, teachers, paren's
and friends . . . first of all we want '
express our deep gratitude to everyone
who has made this evening a reality for
us. Our parents — our mothers and
dads — without you, this couldn't have
been possible. Day after day at home
you taught us things we could never
learn in school. You were always there
to encourage us — "
Ray took it, every agonizing line of it.
He stayed through the salutatorian's
address, and the handing out of the
diplomas, his hungry eyes never leav-
ing the boy's face. He didn't dare wait
to see Roger join the march off the
stage; the audience would break up
then, and he couldn't risk Julie's turn-
ing around, possibly seeing him. He
had a little trouble with the doors —
or maybe the trouble was with his
eyes, which were somehow, suddenly
blurred— and then he was outside,
headed for the bus line and Mrs. Olson's
boarding house in Selby Flats.
A man and a woman sat on the
boarding house porch; the man faded
quickly inside as Ray came up.
"Poor Eddie," Ray grinned. "Lives R
in hopes, doesn't he?"
Charlotte Wilson tilted her face to M
look up at him. It was a pretty face,
but with tired lines that were too old
63
Dr. Charles Matthews (played by Hugh Studebaker) watched and waited
as Ray Brandon struggled with his problem. He knew Ray's secret goal.
64
for her years. Just now it was a soft
blur in the June night. "He doesn't
need any encouragement. Not like some
people I know." Quickly she went on,
"How was the graduation?"
RAY was touched. She was always
making little slips that betrayed
her attitude of casual friendliness, and
then hurriedly changing the subject as
if she were afraid of forcing him to take
notice of her. Earlier in the evening
she had suggested a walk in the Flats'
rather dusty little park; when he had
told her where he was going and had
invited her to go with him, her face
had lighted with longing — but she had
refused, sensing that he wanted to go
alone.
"All right," he answered, and couldn't
help adding, "One part of it was won-
derful. A young man, the class vale-
dictorian, spoke — "
"Yes — " She was watching his face
intently. "What did he have to say?"
He was afraid to go on, afraid she
would divine more than
he wanted her to know.
"Oh — just what all
young people have to
say," he answered care-
lessly. "What I felt and
said myself when I was
young. Charlotte, I'm
very sorry. I completely
forgot that you might
be waiting."
She laughed. "You
know, you're a nice
guy," she told him. "I
didn't have you figured
as the kind of guy who'd
say I'm sorry."
He smiled thinly.
"Not quite in character,
you mean?"
"Not quite something.
I had you figured as a
Charlotte
(Hetty Lou Gerson)
hard guy — hard, not
tough. But I guess you're
nice — nicer than I am. I
stopped being sorry —
for anything — a long
time ago. You live to-
day. That's all that
matters. And speaking
of today — there's still
time for that walk in
the park."
A walk in the park,
Ray thought; not a bad
idea. It might help him
forget tonight, and the
boys and girls moving
down the aisle to pro-
cessional music, and a
face that was his own
face, fifteen years
younger, on a stage.
He didn't mean to get too friendly
with Charlotte. In a sense they were
both fugitives from life, and that was
what drew him to her. She was a
pianist; she had a night-club act billed
as "Charlotte and Her
Piano" — when she
worked. Ray suspected
that it was a good act,
and that, if she cared
to exert herself, she
had warmth and drive
enough to put it across.
But he suspected, too,
that she didn't really
care much about any-
thing, and that she
worked only enough
to keep herself and to
pay for her modest
room at Mrs. Olson's.
She was always
around when he came
in from work, not in-
truding herself upon
him, nor seeking at-
tention, but just there,
in case he should want to talk with her
or walk with her or to play a game of
gin rummy. Often he avoided her —
tactfully, so that he wouldn't hurt her
feelings. He was a man with a purpose.
The purpose would have to wait a while
because the man at the other end of it
was out of town, but in the meantime
he didn't want to become interested in
anyone, nor did he want anyone to be-
come interested in him. No emotional
pride must tangle his clear purpose.
THEN one night Dr. Matthews left his
study at the Church of the Good
Samaritan, just up the street from Mrs.
Olson's, and paid him a visit.
"Don't get the wrong idea," he told
Ray. "I know how you feel about me,
and I'm not going to make a habit of
dropping in on you like this. But I
know what you're up against . . . and if
there's ever anything I can do, you
know where the parsonage is."
Ray laughed shortly. "I've a very
good view of it from my window — one
of the drawbacks of the room. And
thanks — but my future is pretty well
laid out. You needn't concern your-
self."
"I wonder," said Dr. Matthews slowly.
"Every time I talk with you, I've the
feeling I'm talking to two men. One
is lost, bewildered; he wants to believe
in something, wants to believe that the
world is a decent place, in spite of
everything. The other
— well, I don't like
what I see in his eyes."
Ray narrowed his
eyes instinctively, as
if guarding them.
Then he snorted.
"You're all alike, you
ministers. Why don't
you practise what you
preach? You're just
curious. There's some-
one new in the neigh-
borhood, someone you
can't tag — "
"I wouldn't say
that," said Dr.
Matthews drily. "You
forget, Brandon, that
I've learned a great
deal about you with-
out going out of my way at all. And
just the other day I had a talk with a
fine boy who's just starting out in life.
He was graduated just the other eve-
ning— class valedictorian — "
Ray's head snapped up. "You —
what?"
"Now, wait a minute. It happened
quite by accident. The boy knew I was
going to give the convocation, so he
figured, we ought to have a talk. He's
a fine boy," Dr. Matthews repeated.
"He wants to work as counselor at the
Young People's Club here in Selby
Flats this summer, and in the fall he
wants to go to U. C. L. A. because it's
the university his father — his real
father — attended."
"Look here, Dr. Matthews, if you told
him — "
"I didn't tell him anything," said Dr.
Matthews. "I was occupied with trying
RADIO MIRROR
Waterman)
THE LIGHT IN THE WINDOW
to place him. Oh, I know his people
indirectly. They're friends of the Mc-
Neills', who are friends of mine. You
probably know that Dr. McNeill runs
the clinic here in Selby Flats. But the
boy's face, and the way he talked — he's
a lot like this one fellow inside you that
I was talking about. The fellow who
believes in something — "
Ray's face was white. He rose, al-
most threateningly. "That has nothing
to do with — "
A SCREAM split the air, followed by
-** scrambling, a crash. Somehow, Dr.
Matthews and Ray got through the door
into the hall at the same time. Down
the hall, outside Charlotte Wilson's
room, a man lay, his head bleeding, a
shattered pitcher beside him. In her
doorway Charlotte was screaming hys-
terically, "Get out! Get out! Get away
from me!"
Dr. Matthews bent over the fallen
man, and suddenly the hall was full of
people, thin-faced little Eddie Bingham,
other boarders, and
Mrs. Olson, martially
commanding them to
go back where they
came from. Dr.
Matthews took the
man off to Dr. Mc-
Neill's clinic; Ray tact-
fully retreated to his
own room until the
house w.is quiet. Then
he knoci ;ed on Char-
lotte's door.
"Charlotte, it's Ray
— Ray Brandon. Are
you all right?"
"Go away," she said
in a thick voice. "Oh,
well — " And the door
opened. She was pac-
ing back and forth in
the small space, shak-
ing all over. "That
good-for-nothing heel.
I'm still so mad I can hardly see
straight."
It was evident that she hadn't yet
recovered from the tussle. Her hair was
mussed, her eyes red as though her head
had been buried in a tear- wet pillow;
her breathing came fast and uneven.
Ray put a quieting hand over hers.
"Who is he?" he asked quietly.
"A rat," said Charlotte succinctly.
"One Larry Lawrence. Somebody I
don't want to know."
"Obviously." Ray grinned slightly.
"Also someone you knew once."
"Eight years ago." She stopped be-
fore him, eyes brilliant, mouth trem-
bling with rage. "I thought that was the
last of him. And today he came back.
A knock on the door — and him standing
there like he didn't know me at first!
'Charlotte Wilson, of all people! I saw
the name on a letter, an envelope down
in the hall, but I didn't think it was
possible. Charlotte, don't you remem-
ber me?' I remembered all right — "
"I guess you did. That was a pretty
nasty cut. Dr. Matthews has taken him
down to the clinic."
"Too bad it wasn't the morgue."
He looked at her, startled. She
READER BONUS
Frank
( William
sounded as if she
meant it. "Charlotte,
you couldn't hate any-
one that much."
"Oh, no? If you'd
gone through what I
have because of one
person . . . What do
you know about hate?"
"What do I know?"
He checked himself
"Surely, Charlotte, it
can't be as bad as all
that. Eight years ago,
you were just a kid — "
She nodded violently. "You bet.
Young and dumb and nice, a regular
little Pollyanna. Sang in church every
Sunday, a sweet small-town girl, young
love's dream taken for a sleigh ride by
Handsome Harry. I should have killed
him — "
He put his hands on her shoulders,
forced her into a chair. "Charlotte,
stop that. Now have a cigarette and
relax. What's the use getting worked
up over something
that happened eight
years ago? There—
that's better — "
She took the ciga-
rette, looked up at him
with eyes full of
apology — and some-
thing else. "I'm sorry,"
she said. "I shouldn't
have flown off the
handle that way. But
I got so mad at him,
and then mad at my-
self for being mad . .
is he coming back?"
"I don't know," Ray
answered. "I heard
him say he has a room
here, but under the
circumstances I don't
imagine he'll be too
anxious to stay."
"That's what you
think." She laughed bitterly. "All I've
got to say is that this place isn't big
enough for the two of us. One of us
will have to go — me or Larry Law-
rence."
But she didn't go. Larry came back
from the clinic; the days passed, and
still Charlotte remained. Then, coming
home from work one afternoon and
passing her half-open door, Ray saw
something that made him pause, push
the door open the rest of the way.
"Charlotte, what in the world are
you doing?"
"What does it look
like?" she snapped,
and went on with her
packing. "I'm clearing
out of here."
He sat down heavily.
"You can't," he said.
"I — I won't let you do
this."
She straightened,
staring at him. "You
won't let _me? What's
it to you, anyway?"
"I like you," said
Ray. "Except when
you give in to these
impulses — "
"Like throwing
pitchers at people?"
He nodded soberly.
"And — showing the
Julie Collins
(Mary Lansing)
Collins
Bouchey)
Roger Collins
(Sam Edwards)
white feather. You're
only running away,
Charlotte. You're
afraid to face your-
self, and the past. If
you'd care to talk to
me about it ... if I
can help — "
Dimly he heard an
echo — Dr. Matthews
offering, his own voice
refusing. But he
wouldn't listen. What
applied to him didn't
necessarily apply to
others. And Charlotte needed help.
"Why should I tell you anything?"
she demanded. "What do I know about
you, the man of mystery himself? Be-
sides, you wouldn't understand. I'm
not like you, and you're not like me. I
— I'm just not in your class."
"Not — " His jaw dropped. "What are
you talking about? We were talking
about one thing, and now you've
switched to another. Charlotte, don't
be so — so female!"
She blinked and folded her lips
tightly against tears. Of course he
wouldn't understand — because he
would never in the world want to.
Little Eddie Bingham had set her
straight about that. Why don't you
come down to earth, Charl? This Bran-
don guy ain't in your class. He's just
slumming down here — he's not Selby
Flats. He's a writer or something like
that, maybe a professor. You know he
told me he studied law for fifteen
years? And still he ain't a lawyer. You
see, you don't know anything about
him. And you never will. One day he'll
pack up and leave here just the way he
came in.
That's why she was going. It wasn't
Larry Lawrence. So long as he stayed
away from her room, she didn't care if
he chose to live here. He didn't matter
any more. But Ray Brandon did.
Ray sensed it, knew that somehow
her staying or going depended upon
him, and he rebelled inwardly. This
was one of life's traps, the impulse to
reach out and stop her, to give of him-
self. And yet — hadn't she given to him?
Talk, companionship, a woman's com-
panionship, something he'd been as
starved for as he'd been for the sight of
his son.
"We're not alike?" he asked. "Well,
we are in one way. You see. Charlotte,
I hate someone, too. Hate him in a way
you can't even begin to imagine. Some
day I'm going to — but
never mind that. The
point is, I'm waiting
for that someday, but
I'm not losing my
head. I can't afford to
make a fool of my-
self— " His own words
stopped him short. No,
he couldn't afford to
make a fool of himself
— and one quick, sure
way of doing just that
would be to talk too
much.
Her eyes were fixed
upon his, and it
seemed as if the very
breath had stopped in
her throat. "You're
waiting — what (Con-
tinued on page 103)
65
66
All Times Below Are EASTERN STANDARD TIME
For Correct CENTRAL STANDARD TIME, Subtract One Hour
U N
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Earl Wild
Carolina Calling
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story to Order
Words and Music
Tone Tapestries
Chamber Music
Society
White Rabbit Line
News
E. Power Biggs
Trinity Choir of
St. Paul's Chapel
10:00
10:15
10:30
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Bible Highlights
Voices Down The
Wind
Radio Bible Class
Voice of Prophecy
Message of Isreal
Southernaires
Church of the Air
Church of the Air
11:00
11:15
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News Highlights
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Christian Reform
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Reviewing Stand
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Howard K. Smith
The News Makers
Salt Lake Tabernacle
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
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1:00
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3:00
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4:00
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Sunday At The Chase
EVENING PROGRAMS
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The Catholic Hour
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freshes on the Air
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8:00
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case, Mickey
Rooney
Strike It Rich
WALTER O'KEEFE— is the genial
master of ceremonies on NBC's Dou-
ble or Nothing, heard daily, 2:00 EST,
MARCIA NEIL — who sings the com-
mercials on The Second Mrs. Burton
(daily, 2:00 P.M. EST, CBS) and
When A Girl Marries (daily, 5:00
P.M. EST, NBC) is a career girl who
combines a busy singing schedule and
a full-time job as homemaker and
mother with remarkable and enviable
ease. She broke into radio through
television and radio work at the
World's Fair and has been heard reg-
ularly on the air ever since.
A.M.
8:30
8:45
9:00
9:15
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10:15
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11:00
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NBC
Do You Remember
Honeymoon in New
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Clevelandaires
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Passing Parade
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Heart's Desire
ABC
Breakfast Club
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azine of the Air
Listening Post
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AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
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Words and Music
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1:00
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Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Golden Hope Chest
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:30
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Benson Movie
Show
Woody and Virginia
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
Challenge of the
Yukon
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
In My Opinion
Fred Feibel
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Dinner Date
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
The Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Cavalcade of
America
Voice of Firestone
The Falcon
Casebook of Gregory
Hood
Billy Rose
Sound Off
Stars in the Night
Inner Sanctum
Talent Scouts
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:55
Telephone Hour
Dr. 1. Q.
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Quiet Please
Bill Henry
Jimmy Blaine
Get Rich Quick
Lux Radio Theatre
10:00
10:15
10:30
Contented Program
Fred Waring
Fishing and Hunting
Club
Dance Orch.
Arthur Gaeth
Earl Godwin
Curt Massey Show
My Friend Irma
Camel Caravan with
Vaughn Monroe
MARTIN AGRONSKY — embarked
on his career as newspaper correspond-
ent after graduating from Rutgers
University. His first assignment was
Palestine for the Palestine Post and
the Christian Science Monitor. During
the war his voice was heard from far
flung battle fronts and important cities
all over the globe. Now, early morn-
ing listeners hear his careful evalua-
tion of the news on ABC, Mon.-Sat.
■
w
N
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst. in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:00
8:45
Do You Remember
News
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Club Time
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Service Band
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Art Van Damme
Quartet
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Golden Hope Chest
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Benson Movie
Show
Woody and Virginia
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
Fun House
Sky King
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Marine Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
NBC Concert Orch.
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen For A Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Golden Hope Chest
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
•
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Red Benson Movie
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Show
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Woody and Virginia
Galen Drake
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
The Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Challenge of the
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Capt. Midnight
Yukon
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Superman
Jack Armstrong
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum V Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
John MacVane
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody .
Talks
6:30
Local Programs
Avenir de Monfred
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Dinner Date
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith Show
7:30
Adrian Rollini Trio
News
Lone Ranger
Club 15
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Radio City Playhouse
Special Agent
Original Amateur
Mr. Chameleon
8:15
Hour, Ted Macks,
8:30
Great Gildersleeve
High Adventure
MX.
Dr. Christian
8:55
Billy Rose
9:00
Duffy's Tavern
Gabriel Heatter
Abbott and Costello
Your Song and Mine
9:15
Radio Newsreel
9:30
Mr. District Attorney
Hollywood Story
Go For the House
Harvest of Stars
9:45
with James Melton
955
3ill Henry
10:00
The Big Story
Opinion- Aire
Bing Crosby
The Whistler
10:15
10:30
Curtain Time
Lionel Hampton
Show
Gordon MacRae
Capitol Cloak Room
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Frontiers of Science
Fred Feibel
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Lennie Herman
Quintet
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Dinner Date
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Meredith Willson
Musical
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Philip Morris Show
Date With Judy
Mysterious Traveler
Official Detective
Billy Rose
Youth Asks the
Government
America's Town
Meeting of the Air
Mystery Theater
Mr. and Mrs. North
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
9:55
Amos 'n' Andy
Fibber McGee &
Molly
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Lone Wolf
Bill Henry
Edwin D. Canham
We, The People
Hit The Jackpot
10:00
10:15
10:30
Bob Hope Show
People are Funny
Public Defender
Dance Orchestra
NAM Series
Labor U. S. A.
Rooftops of the City
Dance Orchestra
■**»£•
PEGGY KNUDSEN —who plays Lois
Graves, sister of CBS' Junior Miss
(Saturdays, 11:30 A.M. EST) is a
daughter of Duluth's fire chief, Con-
rad Knudsen. She got into the theater
business easily when a stage director
discovered her at the Stage Door Can-
teen during the war; in no time she
wras playing the title role in "My Sis-
ter Eileen." Later, she made her
radio debut on Bill Goodwin's Show.
67
H^BHTH BaM
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
UBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Dorothy Kilgallen
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bkfst in H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Victor H. Lindlahr
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
U. S. Service Band
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Art Van Damme
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Quartet
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Robert Ripley
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen for a Day
Maggi McNellis
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Golden Hope Chest
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
•
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Red Benson Movie
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Show
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Woody and Virginia
Galen Drake
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Robert Hurleigh
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Fun House
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Capt. Midnight
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Superman
Sky King
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Of Men and Books
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Lawrence Welk
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Dinner Date
News
Inside Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Aldrich Family
Burns and Allen
Talent Jackpot
Better Half Quiz
Billy Rose
Front Page
To Be Announced
The F.B.I. In Peace
and War
Mr. Keen
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:55
Al Jolson Show
Sealtest Village Store
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Revere Revue
Bill Henry
Child's World
Candid Microphone
Suspense
Crime Photographer
10:00
10:15
10:30
Screen Guild Theatre
Fred Waring Show
Family Theatre
Local Programs
Radio Readers'
Digest
JOAN LAZER— the petite 11-year-old
youngster who plays the role of Jill
Malone in Young Dr. Malone, daily,
1:30 EST, CBS, was born in Tel-Aviv.
She came to New York at the age of
two; by the time she was six, she had
made her debut singing on the air.
Joan's most ardent admirer is her two-
year-old brother who toddles over to
the radio whenever he hears her voice
on the air, which is quite often.
A.IVk
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
The Trumpeteers
Songs By Bob Atcher
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Nelson Olmsted
Editor's Diary
Ozark Valley Folks
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
Joyce Jordan
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
The Listening Post
Music for You
Sing Along
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Tell Your Neighbor
Heart's Desire
Bfst. H'wood
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Arthur Godfrey
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Victor H. Lindlahr
Campus Salute
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
U. S. Marine Band
Robert McCormick
Robert Ripley
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For a Day
Golden Hope Chest
Maggi McNellis
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Benson Movie
Show
Woody and Virginia
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Robert Hurleigh
Johnson Family
Two Ton Baker
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
Challenge of the
Yukon
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Lum 'n' Abner
EVENING PROGRAMS
68
GALE GORDON— tries unsuccessful-
ly, although manfully, every Tuesday,
as Mayor La Trivia, to cope with the
combined minds and vocabularies of
Fibber McGee and Molly. He is also
F. Ogden Williams, the weather man
on this popular NBC show. Gordon,
who was born in New York and edu-
cated in England, lives on a San Fer-
nando Valley ranch where he putters
around with his hobby, carpentry.
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
News
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Report from the
United Nations
Avenir de Monfred
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Dinner Date
Henry J. Taylor
Inside of Sports
Headline Editor
Elmer Davis
Lone Ranger
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:55
Cities Service Band
of America
Jimmy Durante
Show
Great Scenes From
Great Plays
Leave It to the Girls
Billy Rose
The Fat Man
This Is Your FBI
Mr. Ace and Jane
Jack Carson Show
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Eddie Cantor Show
Waltz Time
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Col. Stoopnagle's
Quiz
Break the Bank
The Sheriff
Ford Theatre
10:00
10:15
10:30
Life of Riley
Sports
Meet the Press
Tex Beneke
Boxing Bouts
Everybody Wins,
Phil Baker
Spotlight Revue
^^SB&^B®BBLjHmQExE!l^^^$^wmM
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Story Shop
Mind Your Manners
Robert Hurleigh
Practical Gardner
Shoppers Special
CBS News of America
Renfro Valley Folks
Garden Gate
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Frank Merriwell
Archie Andrews
Bill Harrington
Ozark Valley Folks
This Is For You
Johnny Thompson
Saturday Strings
Red Barber's Club-
House
Mary Lee Taylor
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
Meet the Meeks
Smilin' Ed McConnell
Movie Matinee
Teen Timer's Club
Abbott and Costello
Don Gardiner
Buddy Weed
Let's Pretend
Junior Miss
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Arthur Barriault
Campus Capers
Junior Junction
Theatre of Today
12:15
Public Affairs
Stars Over Hollywood
12:30
American Farmer
12:45
Coffee With Congress
This Week in Wash-
ington
1:00
Nat'l Farm Home
Alan Lomax
Maggie McNellis,
Grand Central Sta.
1:15
Herb Sheldon
1:30
Edmond Tomlinson
Dance Orch.
Piano Playhouse
County Fair
1:45
Report From Europe
2:00
Music For The
Dance Orch.
Football
Give and Take
2:15
Moment
2:30
Salute to Veterans
Bands For Bonds
Country Journal
2:45
3:00
Magic Rhythm
Report from Overseas
3:15
Adventures in
Science
3:30
Local Programs
Sports Parade
Cross-Section U.S.A.
3:45
4:00
Charlie Slocum
Stan Dougherty
4:15
Dance Orch.
4:30
Local Programs
Local Programs
4:45
First Church of
Christ Science
Treasury Bandstand
5:00
Dizzy Dean Sports-
cast
Take A Number
Tea and Crumpets
5:15
Lassie Show
5:30
Dr. 1. O.
True or False
Melodies to Remem-
ber
Dave Stephen's
Orch.
• 5:45
Dorothy Guldheim
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:45
Peter Roberts
Art of Living
Dance Orchestra
Jack Beall
News from Wash-
ington
Red Barber Sports
Show
Larry Lesueur
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Curtain Time
Hawaii Calls
To Be Announced
Mel Allen
Treasury Bond Show
Famous Jury Trials
Saturday Night
Serenade
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:45
Hollywood Star
Theatre
Truth or Conse-
quences
Twenty Questions
Stop Me If You've
Heard This One
Johnny Fletcher
The Amazing Mr.
Malone
Sing It Again
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Your Hit Parade
Judy Canova Show
Three For The
Money
Gang Busters
What's My Name?
Morey Amsterdam
Show
It Pays To Be
Ignorant
10:00
10:15
10:30
Day in the Life of
Dennis Day
Grand Ole Opry
Theatre of the Air
Whiz Quiz With
Johnny Olsen,
M.C.
Hayloft Hoedown
Let's Dance, America
GEORGE PETRIE — did nothing
about his theatrical ambitions until
after graduating from USC. He got
his start with the Federal Theatre
Project in his hometown, New Haven,
Connecticut. Since then, Broadway
has seen him in "Winged Victory,"
"Mr. Big," "Pastoral," and in the mo-
tion picture, "Boomerang." On the air,
he is heard as D.A. Markham in Philo
Vance, on Mon. at 10 P.M. EST, MBS.
Light and small is
theHearette : 8 1/-2. oz.
A new electronic instrument that
will bring hearing aid to millions
of people who have hearing prob-
lems is the Hearette. This light-
weight, pocket-sized device is of
particular value to radio listeners
who have slight hearing defi-
ciences. Weighing only 8V2 ounces
and contained in a lucite case, the
Hearette is capable of increasing
the power of sound delivered to the
ear more than 100,000 times.
Big-picture television is smartly designed in a
space-thrifty cabinet of genuine mahogany in the
latest receiver introduced by Crosley. This set,
Crosley's latest:
Model 9-407M.
Model 9-407M, offers complete FM reception as well
as all-channel television reception. The cabinet size
is only 22V2 inches wide by 19V2 inches deep by
16 inches high.
Keeping pace with the current trends in interior
decoration, RCA Victor has announced that their
popular table model, 77TJ, is now available in a
blond mahogany finish in keeping with modern
room settings. The cabinet front and side panels
are of solid mahogany, while the lid is finished, top
and bottom, with mahogany stripe veneer.
Stewart -Warner has
announced a new Dec-
orators line, available in
six new cabinet designs.
All the sets are radio-
phonograph combina-
tions and are supplied in
straight AM or in com-
bination AM-FM. All
sets have two speakers
and built-in aerials.
Stewart-Warner: One of six.
69
Mrs. Helen Hines (1) tells Terry Bur-
ton that home training is the most im-
portant influence in anyone's life.
SUPPOSE that among the many millions of mothers in
our country you were chosen as the American Mother of
the Year! That was exactly what happened to Mrs.
Helen G. Hines of Springfield, 111. When she appeared as
our Family Counselor she had so much to say that I de-
cided the best way to pass it on to you would be to let
Mrs. Hines speak for herself and this is what she told us:
"The most important influence in anyone's life is the
training he receives at home. It seems to me that too many
mothers of today are forgetting this responsibility — that of
teaching their children the great principles of living. Of
course, some of it must be taken care of in schools and
churches, but there is a growing tendency to leave the
major part of the job to these organizations, when the
home is the best place to set a pattern of life for children.
"In my opinion, two principles which children should be
taught very early are respect for authority and considera-
tion for the rights of others. I am old-fashioned enough to
believe that the parents, not the children, should run the
home, and that the children should accept the guidance of
mature individuals until they have learned how to conduct
themselves so as to insure their happiness and security.
"There seems to be a decided trend in modern education
to make things too easy and enjoyable, rather than a mat-
ter of honest-to-goodness hard work. We are doing our
children an injustice if we let them believe that anything
worthwhile can be accomplished without hard work.
"In order to prepare our children for life, I believe they
should be taught to have faith in God. Children of parents
who have strong religious convictions have a much better
chance for happiness than those who come from homes
where spiritual things have little value. A belief in God is
essential for the mother who would influence the lives of
her children for noble manhood and womanhood."
That is something we all could think about.
If there is some topic that you would like to have dis-
cussed by one of our Family Counselors, won't you send
it along to me. in care of Radio Mirror?
By
TERRY
BURTON
70
Every Wednesday, The Second Mr». Burton ie visited by an authority on dome phone of women'* world Interest. Through thin department, Terry
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Our Boss, Joe Kelly
{Continued from page 28)
shoulder just before you go into the
studio. "Don't be nervous," he tells you.
"Do exactly as you would at home. I'll
find a question you can answer, and
when I do, get your hand up fast. You'll
have fun."
All of us know Mr. Kelly is on the
side of a new kid, and remembering our
own first days, we follow his lead to
give the new member a chance. We
hope you heard him the day five-year-
old Bobby Senescu joined us.
Bobby is so tiny someone should have
carried his gown like a princess' train.
He didn't know how to pick it up him-
self, and he tripped at every step. He
had to sit on three phone books to reach
his microphone.
Perched like an alert little bird, with
his head cocked on one side to keep the
tassle of his cap out of his eyes, he just
sat there and let question after question
go by.
Then came one from John Carlson of
Chicago. The pianist was to play parts
of a musical composition, and from the
style of the music we were to identify
the composer, and if possible, give the
name of the piece. .
Both of us tried and got snarled up.
Mr. Kelly must have noticed the second
Bobby lifted his hand off his desk, for
he cut us short.
"Bobby?"
That little mite leaned into his micro-
phone. "Rachmaninoff's 'Variation on a
Paganini Theme.' " Sawing at an imag-
inary fiddle, he hummed a funny zzzzzz
sound, going on from the bar where
the pianist had left off.
"That's right!" Mr. Kelly shouted,
happy as if someone had given him a
million dollars. "Now Bobby, try again.
Mr. Carlson wants to know if you can
identify the composer and composition
of this one."
Again the pianist sounded a few
notes. Bobby's arm waved wildly. He
had caught on. "Same thing, upside
down."
Mr. Kelly wasn't prepared for so
swift an answer. He started to glance
at his card, but even as he did so, he
translated Bobby's term.
"Right. Right again. It's Rachman-
inoff's 'Variation on a Paganini Theme'
— inverted."
That time the pianist had played the
same piece, but had made it an inver-
sion of the opening theme he had just
finished.
The question could well have stumped
one with many more years of musical
study than Bobby. Mr. Kelly wanted
to be sure everyone appreciated his
accomplishment. He waved for audi-
ence applause, exclaiming, "Isn't that
fine? Isn't that wonderful for a five-
year-old?"
By the next Sunday, Bobby was
talking up with the rest of us. The
question was: "If a violin player emp-
tied his pockets, what might you find,
indicating his profession?"
Bobby said a bridge, resin, strings.
Lonnie Lunde added a tuning key. Mr.
Kelly didn't understand. He consulted
Bobby. Bobby said yes, he might carry
a spare peg — the key you wind to tune
the strings. Both of us named a chin
rest. Bobby objected.
"What's the matter, Bobby?" Mr.
Kelly asked. "Why wouldn't a violin
player have a chin rest?"
"A chin rest goes under his chin, not
in his pocket," said Bobby. We laughed
with the audience. We all felt he had
earned credit for that answer.
That's the way Mr. Kelly is. He
doesn't dare you to answer a question
correctly, like some grown ups do. He
acts like he expects you to know, and
that it is his job to help you say it right.
When you have, it's a wonderful feel-
ing to hear him shout, "Yes siree! That's
very, very good! I wish I could do
that."
We have talked it over, and we con-
clude Mr. Kelly is such a good Chief
Quizzer because he knows what it is
like to be somewhat young and have to
face large audiences. Had there been a
Quiz Kids program when he was a boy,
he undoubtedly would have been on it,
for he was a very remarkable child.
Since Mr. Kelly talks very little about
himself in a serious fashion, we had to
quiz the Chief Quizzer to find out about
this.
We learned that Mr. Kelly never
went to school a day after he was eight
years old and finished third grade.
He already had a reputation as a boy
soprano by that time, for when he was
six, he won a five-dollar prize for sing-
ing "The Holy City" in an amateur
contest at an Indianapolis theater. He
had won many such prizes by the time
he was eight and went to Crawfords-
ville, Indiana, to spend the summer
with his grandmother.
His father had died, and the family
had very little money. He was happy
when a theater manager hired him to
sing "Down by the Old Mill Stream"
while pictures (Continued on page 74)
ltd afieefc mta
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(Continued jrom page 72) of the stream
and the mill were flashed on the screen.
That led to fifty dollars a week with
the Doyle stock company as "Master
Joe Kelly, the Irish Nightingale." He
learned geography by traveling, and
arithmetic by paying his hotel bill.
No wonder he understands how we
get nervous in front of the audience.
He knows, too, how it feels to fail.
He had played theaters all over the
country, and at fourteen was the young-
est minstrel man in America. His salary
was seventy-five dollars a week.
Then one day he reached for his high
note. Not a sound came out. Little
Joe Kelly's voice had changed; he was
through.
His singing had helped support the
Kelly family. All the time he traveled,
he sent money home. His next job was
as an office boy, but that paid twelve
dollars a week instead of seventy-five.
To learn to play the piano, he spent
his noon hours in dime store music de-
partments watching the girl pianists.
He organized his own dance band,
"Kelly's Klowns," then gave it up to
become an actor in a touring stock
company.
ON St. Patrick's Day, 1923, at Sault
Sainte Marie, Ontario, he married
the company's pretty brunette business
manager, Mary, and eventually they
settled down in Benton Harbor, Michi-
gan.
Mr. Kelly had a variety of jobs until
he broke into radio at the same station
where his son, Joe Jr., now is getting
his start as an announcer.
In 1933, he borrowed money to come
to Chicago. He got his first announc-
ing job at WLS, and soon became
Chief Bell Ringer of the National Barn
Dance.
He was also "Jolly Joe," the chil-
dren's waker-upper, on a morning pro-
gram. Peering through his "magic
telescope," he helped them get ready
for school by keeping score while they
raced to get dressed. Some mornings
the girls won; others, the boys were
ahead. As they scrambled into their
clothes, he told them wonderful stories
about Polly the Parrot and Scamper
the Billygoat.
In 1940, Lou Cowan, whose business
it is to dream up radio programs, had
the idea for the Quiz Kids. Walter
Wade, of the Wade Advertising Agency,
liked it, and together they got the show
ready for the air. As the first board of
kids, Gerard Darrow, Cynthia Cline,
Joan Bishop and Van Dyke Tiers quali-
fied, but sixteen prospective quiz mast-
ers did not. They tried college profes-
sors, writers and announcers. The kids
got scared and froze, and the would-be
Chief Quizzers flunked.
Then Mr. Wade thought of Joe Kelly.
Mr. Kelly did not want to audition, but
he was under personal contract to Mr.
Wade, and when Mr. Wade asked, Mr.
Kelly tried.
The kids had fun. They talked and
talked.
Mr. Kelly went to Canada on a vaca-
tion and forgot all about it. He had
helped out his friend Mr. Wade, but
that was all there was to it. These kids
could confuse the professors, and he
had only a third grade education. So
far as he was concerned, he wasn't
qualified for the job.
He was having a fine time in the
wilderness when Mr. Wade and Mr.
Cowan wired, "Come back. You're the
Chief Quizzer."
We asked members of Mr. Cowan's
staff to tell us a little more about why
they chose Mr Kelly.
They explained that the show is not
intended to test the Chief Quizzer's
knowledge; its object is to bring out
what we Kids have learned.
He can check our replies against the
information on the cards the research
department provides, but first he has
to get us to give the answers.
We're eager to give Mr. Kelly the
answers because we feel he under-
stands that you can know something
perfectly, but if some one dares you to
say it, you can get so excited every-
thing erases out of your mind like chalk
off a blackboard.
It may be that Mr. Kelly has never
forgotten the way he felt the day his
voice changed, and he stood in front of
an audience, unable to sing a note. If
one of us gets into a tight spot, he helps
us all he can — short of giving away the
answer.
I (Joel) want to tell you about the
day he helped me the most.
I hadn't missed a math problem in a
month, and even before the show I had
a feeling this was the day. Mr. Kelly
must have noticed what happens when
I miss — I get red in the face and so
flustered I can't concentrate any more.
I should have solved that one. When
Mr. Kelly said, "No, I'm sorry Joel, but
that isn't right ..." I started to burn.
He must have seen me blush red as my
gown.
He turned his back to the audience
and talked only to me. "Never mind,
Joel. You'll get the next one. Just
take it easy."
I calmed down. I was away behind
at the time, but instead of having my
thoughts scrambled, I answered the
next questions correctly and came in
second.
And I, (Rinny) felt the worst the
day I arrived with a black eye. Hon-
estly, I don't know when I've been so
embarrassed.
Some people pretended not to notice;
some kidded me. I don't know which
was worse. Apparently, it is very funny
when a thirteen-year-old young lady
sports a shiner.
MR. KELLY, however, was perfectly
matter-of-fact. "How did you get
it?"
"I was playing a little touch football
at a picnic," I almost whispered. I was
that fussed.
"Well," said Mr. Kelly, "you'll just
have to develop a little better defense."
I didn't mind after that.
Perhaps the reason we trust Mr.
Kelly so much is because we have never
seen him angry. Even on out of town
trips, when we invent games which are
somewhat hectic for a pullman, and the
other grown ups get provoked; he just
smiles.
He's a genius, too, at restoring order
when we start scuffling before the show.
We'll admit things get a bit wild.
As we told you, we reach NBC just
half an hour before we go on the air.
Usually, we wait in a small studio until
time to make our entrance. We haven't
seen each other for a week, and we have
lots of things saved up to say.
One of us will grab a dead mike to
imitate a noted announcer. Another
disagrees with his interpretation and
tries to take it away. In seconds, we're
all shouting at once.
Then Mr. Kelly walks in. He'll say,
"Cut it out, Kids. We don't want any
more teeth lost around here."
I (Joel) carefully count molars and
incisors. I lost my baby teeth in twelve
different states, but I need these. To
change the subject, I ask, "What's on
the cards today?"
Those cards provide our best running
gag. Everyone joins in the clamor.
"What are the questions?"
"Is there one I can answer?"
"Please, Mr. Kelly, let us have just
a little peek."
He laughs and flips the pack, but it's
always the blank sides he shows us.
Or he'll reach out, then notice all of a
sudden he's aimed toward a Quiz Kid,
and quick pass them to a member of the
staff. Other times he'll pretend to be
serious, start to give them to us, then
say, "Oh, I forgot. These are last
week's."
While this goes on, Lonnie Lunde
heads for the piano. He has been a
pianist and composer since he was four,
and can, we think, play any piece ever
written. Mr. Kelly, on the other hand,
learned his piano in dime stores.
But we love his boogie. One of us
shouts, "Play for us, Mr. Kelly, please
play for us."
Now we have been around radio sta-
tions long enough to know everyone
gets tense before a big network show.
Any ordinary man on his way to the
studio would refuse.
BUT not our Mr. Kelly. He sits right
down. Often he and Lonnie play
duets, but the most hectic session came
the day we got our organist, Howard
Peterson, into it, too. Mr. Kelly and he
raced. Faster and faster they played.
It ended up in a positive tailspin.
Best of all, Mr. Kelly likes the song
Lonnie wrote for him:
The Chief Quizzer
You'll find a lot of Kellys,
No matter where you go;
But to the Quiz Kids there's just one
The Kelly known as Joe —
Joe Kelly, the Chief Quizzer
He gives us no chance to relax —
Joe Kelly, the Chief Quizzer
He makes us come up with the
facts —
He throws the questions at us, some
easy, some hard,
For our tender ages he has no
regard;
'Cause he's got the answers right
there on his card,
Joe Kelly, the Quizzer.
We're ready for anything by the time
we file into the studio. We laugh
ahead of the audience when, just before
air time, Mr. Kelly introduces our an-
nouncer, Bob Murphy, saying, "Kelly
and Murphy, what a pair! It's a great
day for the Irish. . . . Let me get these
spectacles on . . . I'm having a little
difficulty . . . they're a new pair I'm
breaking in for my wife . . . Rinny,
here's a question . . . why do you think
people fall in love?"
The laughs ring out, and before we
have a chance to get solemn or scared,
we're on the air, and he's asking the
serious questions as happily as he did
the foolish ones.
Mr. Kelly's formal education may
have ended with the third grade, but
he has made us realize a smart person
doesn't do all his learning in school.
Even our audience senses, we think,
that Mr. Kelly is like a kindly step-
father to every Quiz Kid. We find that
out when we get into scraps with other
kids at school. If they get really mad
at us, they don't say, "I'll tell your
father."
Oh no. When you're a Quiz Kid, it
isn't as simple as that. They say, "We'll
write Joe Kelly." And we wouldn't be
surprised if some of them do
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Bachelor Girl in
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(Continued from page 57)
struck out on her own, he has done all
of her recordings with her, as well as
conducted for her radio appearances.
Jo brags that Paul is a blossoming
song writer as well as a top conductor
and arranger, and points to his three
recent hit tunes, "I Should Care," "Day
by Day" and "Ain't Ya Ever Coming
Back?"
Some of Paul's songs have emanated
from Jo's living room, where an audi-
ence of his pals is always ready to give
a new work a quick run through. Some
of those off-the-cuff concerts are bet-
ter than the broadcasts, say the insiders
who've heard them.
"We never know when we're kid-
ding," Jo explains, recalling the fan-
tastic story back of her biggest record
hit. the gag version of "Temptation"
which reached the juke boxes as "Tim-
tay-shun."
Jo made the record in a half an hour
— "strictly the one take" — at the end of
an all-day recording session with the
Capitol Records people.
THE arrangement had been whipped
up for another singer, who got sick at
the last minute and failed to keep the
recording date. Jim Conkling, of Capi-
tol, suggested that Jo do it — "lust for a
gag."
It took half an hour to make it. Jo
says, and five minutes to forget it. It
was just a way of working off steam.
She was so sure she had heard the
last of it that she didn't even tell Mi-
chael Nidorf, her manager, that the
record was made.
But Capitol released the platter, cred-
iting the vocal to "Cinderella G. Stump."
After about a month, Conkling tele-
phoned Jo to report.
"Don't look now," he said, "but I
think 'Tim-tay-shun' is going to cause
some talk." Six hundred thousand re-
orders were in.
As the hepsters all know, "Tim-tay-
shun" long ago passed the million mark,
making recording history.
If she's going to make history, Jo
would be just as glad if it were all that
easy.
Her big upsurge in the popularity
polls in the past two years has drummed
up a fistful of theater and night club
offers. This seemed like a good idea, at
first. But Jo tried both, "and ran home
screaming."
"It's too tough — the fancy get-ups,
the five-a-day, the crowds."
She particularly hated the night club
business, although she packed La Mar-
tinique in New York every night during
her engagement. Night clubs have all
the bad features of theaters, she says,
plus later hours, more smoke, more
noise, and more drunks.
The easy-going life is the life for Jo.
Where but in radio could she sleep all
night and, if she wants to, half the day?
In what other business could she get by
with the sweaters and old flannel robes
which are her favorite costumes, spend
every weekend "at home" with the
family, and week nights at home with
a new detective story? Nowhere else
in the entertainment business, that's
sure.
Sure there are more people — and
more applause — if you look out toward
the town.
But, says Jo Stafford — who wants it?
Art Linkletter
(Continued from page 53)
of the way, the cards are out and
everybody is pinned down to bridge or
gin rummy,"
Art thinks that offering a deck of
cards to such guests is an insult to the
guests and a confession of intellectual
bankruptcy on the part of the hosts. As
for himself, he has sworn never to learn
gin rummy.
The old fashioned art of conversation
is cultivated at the Linkletter home,
and it is to help the children develop
their ideas and vocabularies, the neces-
sary antennae for ready communication
with their world and the people in it,
that Art and Lois plan their home life
with an eye to spending the maximum
amount of time with the youngsters.
Even two-year-old Sharon — Sha-
Sha, as she herself says it — is allowed
to dine with the family on stay-at-home
evenings, and her parents are perfectly
happy to advance their own dinner
hour to six o'clock so that the littlest of
their children can be with them.
The Linkletters expect their fifth
child in October, and are giving Sharon
every chance to exploit her position as
the youngest.
Robert, almost four, feels very grown
up when Sharon is around, and a great
deal more articulate, his father says,
than the time he appeared on his
father's House Party program and was
unable to utter a word.
The really "grown-up" children —
Jack, who is eleven, and Dawn, nine,
laugh indulgently at this childish non-
sense which they have long since, of
course, outgrown. For them the dinner
hour is the big chance of the day to
regale their parents with stories of
their day at school.
Jack goes to Black Foxe, a military
school, and Dawn to Westlake, a private
school for girls. They will go to public
schools when they reach the Junior
High School level, their parents have
decided. Art, who studied to be a
teacher, is horrified at the teacher-load
which prevails in the Los Angeles city
schools, and declares that no teacher —
no matter how competent — can teach
fifty children at one sitting. At West-
lake, Dawn's classes hold fourteen or
fifteen, which her father thinks is more
reasonable.
It is characteristic of Art that he
wants nothing but the best for his chil-
dren, for Lois and himself, too.
He started life an orphan, was later
adopted. He managed a college educa-
tion only by dint of the hardest kind of
part-time jobs. Now that he can afford
it, he feels absolutely no guilt about
taking it easy.
When he and Lois were honeymoon-
ing thirteen years ago he did his last
odd job around the house. His wife had
a new floor lamp and asked him to in-
stall the extension cord needed to con-
nect it. Art did, and blew the fuse. He
has never "fixed" anything since — and
Lois knows better than to ask him.
Their house, which surmounts a
sloping acre in the heart of Hollywood,
has everything for a relaxed and luxur-
ious life — terraces with play equipment
for the children, a badminton court, the
swimming pool. The purple jacaranda
trees at the front of the house are beau-
tiful. The whole place is a sort of
walled-in oasis in the center of a really
not-too-beautiful town.
The cook and butler, governess, laun-
dress and gardener now employed to
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keep the Linkletter home running with
well-oiled efficiency will be supple-
mented, come October, with a nurse-
maid.
When they bought it, over three years
ago, their house was just another Medi-
terranean-type villa. But Lois, an en-
thusiastic amateur decorator, has trans-
formed it. Bit by bit, she got rid of
the garish tile and the miles of wrought
iron work that gave it "character" —
of a sort. The forty by twenty-foot
living room is a bright place now, with
the ceiling pickled and bleached, a
simple mantelpiece, and brilliantly-
colored Chinese furniture. The coral
and blue-gray color scheme has a pro-
fessional polish, but no Linkletter
would be happy in a formal room.
The casual accumulation of books,
papers, music, logs piled in the fireplace
— these give it its real character.
The dining room is pale and subtle,
to make the best possible frame for
Lois's collection of traditional silver,
crystal and china. And all the bed-
rooms have as carefully thought-out
color schemes. Jack's is mannish,
Dawn's gay, Robert's a circus. Lois
and Art share a huge room in which
Swedish modern shows beautifully
against a blue-green, chartreuse and
apricot background.
A new room, a twelfth, is now under
construction for the fifth baby's nur-
sery.
Art pays rather appalling bills for all
of this with the greatest good humor.
His family and his home, he feels, are
very rewarding investments.
Fortunately — in view of the kind of
life he enjoys — Art is making money,
important money, these days. The
scrimping and planning of his college
days in San Diego are happily behind
him. His great success on the air, and
in his one movie, People Are Funny,
have built up a demand for his services
at fairs and expositions at astronomical
fees — and he manages to fill a great
many such engagements along with his
regular radio schedule.
Such a pace frightens his friends in
radio who have seen Tom Breneman
and other gifted men break under the
load. But Art is not worried. His public
life is strenuous, but — and this is
crucial, he says — his private life is
quite different. His quiet, lazy life with
his family — which accents sleep, exer-
cise, simple fun — stores up all the
energy he needs for facing the public.
He has another asset, he thinks. He
doesn't worry.
"I suppose, compared with the
power-house guys, I seem phlegmatic,"
he says. "But I have developed a fatal-
istic philosophy in fifteen years of radio
ad-libbing. Anything can happen, and
often does. But I don't worry about it
until it happens. When it happens I do
the best I can."
The philosophy pays off, of course,
for Art is famous in radio for turning
a bad break, or a boner, into the big-
gest laugh on the show.
He has done People are Funny on
TV once, with exciting results. He
wants to do more — for he finds this
medium the best for what he likes best
to do, talk directly to the people.
With television a part of his think-
ing, Art, of course, is making it a part
of his life. His home is probably the
first in Hollywood to have a "television
room.' Like everything else in the
house, the room is designed for the
whole family's enjoyment.
That's what makes the Linkletter
house something really worth writing
about. It's a home.
I It Might as Well
Be Pretty
(Continued from page 61)
Vegetable Combinations: Buttered
peas, carrot strips and cauliflower
flowerets. Broiled mushroom caps,
string beans, diced beets. Buttered
string beans, stuffed onions, grilled
tomatoes. Buttered cauliflower, diced
carrots, spinach. Stuffed green pep-
pers, diced turnips, kidney beans. But-
tered asparagus, diced beets, lima
beans. Stuffed tomatoes, buttered
young carrots, French fried onion rings.
Fried eggplant, grilled tomatoes, but-
tered Brussels sprouts. Stuffed mush-
room caps, beet greens, kernel corn.
Planked Steaks
A steak you are going to serve on a
plank should be broiled first. Select a
tender steak 1V2" to 2" thick. Trim
off excessive fat. Place on greased
rack in preheated broiling pan. Place
broiling pan with meat on rack 2" to 3"
below the heat. Sear on top and sides
and turn. "When seared on both sides
reduce heat to moderate (350° F.).
Continue broiling until 5 minutes be-
fore done.
Cooking Guide for Steak
1-inch: rare, 8-15 minutes; medium,
12-20 minutes; well done, 15-30 min-
utes.
2-inch: rare, 15-25 minutes; medium,
20-30 minutes; well done, 25-40 min-
utes.
Broil until nearly done, then put it
on a preheated plank and arrange
vegetables around it. Place under a
hot broiler to brown potatoes and finish
cooking. Allow y% to % pound per
portion.
Planked Chicken
3 medium sized
IV2 cups cooked
broiling chickens
mashed potatoes
salt
V-k cups whole green
pepper
beans, cooked
oil
IY2 cups whole ker-
pimento
nel corn
Split and clean broilers. Wash and
dry thoroughly. Sprinkle with salt and
pepper and cover with oil. Preheat
broiling compartment to medium. Place
skin side down on broiling pan and
broil about 4 inches from source of heat
for about 20 minutes. Remove from
broiler and place skin side up in center
of oiled heated plank. Arrange pota-
toes around edge of plank with pastry
tube or with spoon. Fill space between
potatoes with beans and corn. Brush
with oil and broil 4 inches from source
of heat about 10 minutes, or until
chicken is tender and potatoes browned.
Makes 6 servings.
Planked Fish
Select any firm-fleshed fish for plank-
ing. You may use whole fish, split
down back, fillets or steaks which are
V2 to 1 inch thick. Dry fish thoroughly,
season both sides with salt and pepper
and brush with oil or melted butter.
Place skin side down on oiled hot plank
or ovenware platter and bake in hot
oven (400° F.) for 15 to 30 minutes,
basting frequently. Remove from oven,
border with mashed potatoes, brush
with melted butter, milk or diluted egg
yolk and brown in oven or under
broiler. Garnish with parsley and
serve at once. Other vegetables such
as string beans, lima beans, tomato
slices or small stuffed tomatoes may be
used with potatoes. Allow V3 to V2
pound fish per portion.
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80
NOSTALGIC MEMORIES
Radio Mirror's Best Letter of the Month
Dear Papa David:
I was born in a small village in Den-
mark. My father was a carpenter. I
can remember walking to school
through the snow wearing wooden
shoes which kept our feet good and
warm.
How well I remember my grand-
mother's house. It was brick, but the
roof was covered with thick sod which
would sprout in the spring, and soon
the whole roof would be green. On
one end of the roof the storks would
build their nests and in a few weeks
their little white offspring could be
seen perched on the roof tops. How
well I remember their long, red legs
and what a thrill we children got from
watching them.
I was ten years old when father de-
cided to go to America where his mar-
ried sister was living, but the sad part
was that he couldn't take us with him.
When he kissed us all good-bye we felt
as though we would never see him
again. Weeks went by, and Spring
came. The grass on grandmother's
roof grew green and we knew the
storks would soon build their nests
again.
After eight months, we received a
letter from Father with transportation
tickets for the whole family. It took
us thirteen days and nights to cross the
ocean, and I was so seasick the sight of
the waves was enough to make me ill.
How happy we were when we sighted
land! We sailed a few hours more and
then sighted the Statue of Liberty.
Never having heard about it before, we
wondered what it was.
Traveling by train, we reached our
destination two days later, fully ex-
pecting Father to meet us. We waited
and waited but he never came. Stran-
gers tried to discover where we were
going, but • we couldn't understand a
word they said.
When it grew dark a man from the
railroad, who spoke Swedish, was sent
over to help us. Mother had no trouble
understanding him and he insisted we
spend the night at his home. Mother
sent a letter to Father, but it was two
days before he arrived. It seems we
had made the trip three days sooner
than expected.
Leaving bright and early, we said
good-bye to those kind people and
started for our new home. It was a
small town and we caused a lot of ex-
citement. The children would come to
our yard to play with us. With their
help, we learned many new words.
In September we began school and
the children Would crowd around us to
hear us talk. How they would laugh,
but we learned fast, thanks to a kind
teacher who took extra time with us.
The years went by fast and we all
learned to love America.
I am seventy-three years old now and
my parents are both dead, but I still
like to think about those days and it
thrills me to hear my great-grandchil-
dren laugh about how father came to
call for us with four mules hitched to
a big spring wagon. So after all, I
find that Life Can Be Beautiful.
Mrs. R. K.
The ten-dollar letters follow:
MONEY ISN'T EVERYTHING
Dear Papa David:
Recently, in the company of friends,
my husband was discussing the sad
state of our finances. I laughed and
said, "It's only money." Everyone
laughed heartily. They assumed I was
joking. Only my husband's smile told
me that he, alone, understood.
We have been married ten years.
No strangers to cheap housing, bill col-
lectors and even pawnshops, we have
endured all the humiliations of poverty.
During the war, we were fortunate.
We worked hard, our income rose, and
we bought a home, a car, and were able
to give our children the things we
wanted them to have.
After the war, we started a business
of our own. Costs were higher than
expected and we spent all our savings,
sold our car, our house, and borrowed
heavily. We worked hard, but we
seemed doomed to failure. We lost
money; our home was broken up; our
creditors hounded us. We were ex-
hausted. We even began to quarrel
with each other.
When we were forced to close our
business, we were heavily in debt and
Life Can Ite Beuutiful, written by Carl Bixliy and Don Becker. >► hearil Mon.-Fri. on INBC at 12
the future seemed hopeless. We dis-
cussed a divorce. In our despair, a cold
pride kept us from saying the one word
that might have led to a reconciliation.
Charles was working nights and to
get more money, he hauled coal during
the day even though he suffered from
asthma.
On New Year's Day, he had a heart
attack. For hours I watched him fight
for a life which we considered unen-
durable. Faced with the probable loss
of my dear one, I prayed that I had left
him enough in life to fight for. I re-
alized what folly we had been about to
commit.
My husband began to recover. We
had many long talks and he admitted
that, compared to his fear of our mar-
riage's breaking up, the other worries
were trifling. Once on his feet, he was
warned that never again would he be
able to work as hard.
People were sympathetic (even our
creditors) . We learned how good and
true most of our friends were. A new
tenderness entered our love for each
other. We both know that probably we
always will be poor — financially, that is.
In the things that really matter, how-
ever, we are God's favored. When we
stopped worrying about money, it was
as if we had been set free.
Mrs. C. W. A.
SOLICITOUS EAVESDROPPERS
Dear Papa David:
We live in the country, and our tele-
phone is one of those eight-party lines
on which everyone eavesdrops.
The night I realized my third baby
was about to be born, my husband was
at work in the city, several miles away.
Frightened, I went to the telephone.
What if the line should be busy? How-
ever, I was fortunate enough to get
the connection, but I was sobbing hys-
terically, asking Frank how I would
get to the hospital, begging him to hurry
home, and wondering who would take
care of our two little boys.
Suddenly, while Frank was still talk-
ing, trying to calm me, I heard a car
drive into our yard, then another, and
another. Those party-liners had heard
my call and had all come to help!
In no time, they arranged everything.
One drove me to the hosoital while the
others cared for the children, reassured
Frank (on the phone) and did a hun-
dred thoughtful things. Oh yes, life can
be beautiful, even on a partv line!
Mrs. F. C.
RADIO MIRROR OFFERS $50
EACH MONTH FOR YOUR LETTERS
Somewhere in everyone's life is hidden a
key to happiness. It may be a half-forgotten
. friend, a period of suffering, an unimportant
incident, which suddenly illuminated the
whole meaning of life. If you are treasuring
such a memory, won't you write to Papa
David about it? For the letter he considers
best each month, Radio Mirror will pay fifty
dollars; for each of the others that we have
room enough to print, ten dollars. No letters
can be returned. Address your Life Can Be
Beautiful letter to Papa David, Radio Mirror
Magazine, 205 East 42 Street. N.Y. 17, N.Y.
Noon, PST; 1 P.M. MSI :2 I'M. <:ST:3 P.M. EST.
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81
BLUE DAYS
CAN BE
BRIGHT DAYS
i
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R
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82
IFORMATION
Step up and ask your questions — we'll try to find the answers
FOR YOUR INFORMATION— If there's something you want to know about
radio, write to Information Booth, Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42nd St., N. Y.
We'll answer if we can either in Information Booth or by mail — but be
sure to sign full name and address, and attach this box to your letter.
with
My
B.
TED MALONE'S ORGANIST
Dear Editor:
How about some
information on Rosa
Rio the organist on
Ted Malone's pro-
gram? I think she
is just about the
best in the business.
Where did she come
from? Is she mar-
ried? What other
programs does she
play for? My girl Rosa Rio
friend and I are
both musicians and I have a wager
her that she is also the organist on
True Story. Am I right or wrong?
Mr. B.
Louisville, Ky.
You're right. She's also the organist on
ABC's Ethel and Albert (Monday to Friday
at 6:45 P.M. EST.), and Second Honey-
moon (Monday to Friday at 3:30 P.M. EST,
ABC). Rosa, who is on ABC's musical staff,
is so much in demand that she often has
only twenty-five seconds to dash from one
studio to another. A native of New Orleans,
she is married, has one son, and, naturally,
has an organ in her home.
STATISTICS WANTED
Dear Editor:
Recently a friend-
ly discussion led to
a friendly wager
concerning the
height and weight
of certain radio
celebrities. Would
you please clarify the
matter for us by giv-
ing these vital statis-
tics of Dick Haymes,
Vaughn Monroe,
and Bob Hope?
Mr. F. V. H.
Chicago 14, 111.
We'll be glad to. Vaughn Monroe, the
tallest of the three, is 6'2" and 185 pounds.
Next comes Dick Haymes at 6' and 160
pounds. And Bob Hope, the shortest, is
5'10", and 170 pounds.
CAPTIVATING VOICE
Dear Editor:
Will you please
tell me who plays
Peggy Martinson on
the Nora Drake pro-
gram? I'd like to
see a picture of her
as she owns such a
wonderfully dra-
matic voice. It's a
voice you want to
stop and listen to.
Mrs. P. B. Mercedes
Armona, California McCambrirtge
Robert St. John
Here's the face that matches the voice
you want to stop and listen to — Mercedes
McCambridge. She is often heard on other
programs such as Inner Sanctum, Studio
One, and Mystery Theatre.
NEWS CORRESPONDENT RETURNS
Dear Editor:
Would you tell
me what has be-
come of Robert St.
John? During the
war I heard him on
the radio often and
he was one of my
favorite newscasters.
I haven't heard him
or anything about
him for a long time.
Mrs. B. C.
Martinsville, Va.
You'll be happy to hear that Robert St.
John recently returned to this country from
Europe where he spent much time gather-
ing material for his new book on Palestine
which will be published this Fall.
THE PARK AVENUE HILLBILLIE
Dear Editor:
I would like to
know where Dor-
othy Shay, The
Park Avenue Hill-
billie, comes from.
Our family enjoys
listening to her and
we are in dispute as
to her native state.
Would you enlight-
en us?
Mrs. P. A. S., San
Antonio, 10, Texas
Dorothy Shay is from the South — Jack-
sonville, Florida, to be specific, where she
was born some twenty-odd years ago.
ALIAS GERARD
Dear Editor:
I noticed in your
August issue of
Radio Mirror the
picture of Jerry
Colonna. Is that his
real name? Has he
made any record-
ings lately?
Mr. F. C.
Erie, Pa.
Jerry's legal name Jerry Colonna
is Gerard Colonna;
however, he changed it when he decided
it was too formal for a comedian. His
latest Capitol recordings, released a few
months ago, are "Pass A Piece of Pizza,
Please," and "Where Do You Work-a, John?"
Dorothy Shay
OOTH
TRIBUTE
Dear Editor:
Until your September issue I was disap-
pointed in your magazine for not mention-
ing the death of Tom Breneman. He meant
so much to so many of us. During the war
years his program always gave us a lift.
And yet, along with the belly laugh, the
smile, or the chuckle, would come the tears
the next moment. That's the test of true
comedy. He was more than a comedian be-
cause shining through his antics was the
warmth, the true heart, of Tom. That was
what made him different from the other
comedians.
Mrs. G. H. E.
Indianapolis, Ind.
Those are our sentiments, too.
SUPER WRITING TEAM
Dear Editor:
Could you give
me some informa-
tion about Frank
and Anne Hummert,
as well as some of
the radio programs
they produce?
Miss N. A. T.
Milford, Mass.
Anne (nee Ashen-
hurst) and Frank Anne Hummert
Hummert originally
started as a secretary-boss combination,
but, as Frank will confide jokingly to
friends, he married Anne because he had
difficulty pronouncing her name. Together
they have become radio's most outstanding
writing and producing team. They write,
produce and direct some sixteen radio
scripts weekly for an audience estimated at
100,000,000 a week. To give you an idea
of the variety of programs they have a hand
in, here are a few: David Harum, Back-
stage Wife, Manhattan Merry -Go -Round,
Lora Lawton, and Waltz Time.
RADIO'S PERFECT MOTHER
Dear Editor:
Will you please
inform me whether
Marion Barney ever
played stock in
Philadelphia quite a
few years ago?
Mrs. M. C. E.
Trenton, N. J.
Not only has she
played stock in Phil-
adelphia, but there Marion Barney
isn't a city with a
population of 100.000 or more that she
hasn't played. Before Marion entered the
field of radio, she had spent twenty dis
tinguished years on the stage, five of
which were spent as leading actress of
the Orpheum Stock Company in Phila-
delphia. Now, known as radio's perfect
mother, Marion is firmly settled in her
role as Mother Young in Pepper Young's
Family.
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{Continued from page 33)
chance. It was seized upon desperately.
A motorcycle messenger was armed
with a release form, and dispatched
from Hollywood to Santa Barbara with
instructions to locate Miss Benson and
get her signature by broadcast deadline.
Little hope was entertained that he
would succeed.
Followed a glum vigil at the tele-
phone. Came five o'clock, Hollywood
time, and no word. Five-thirty, and no
word. Five-forty. The phone jangled.
Wrong number. Twenty minutes left.
Then it rang again. This time it was
the excited voice of the messenger. He
had contacted Miss Benson. She had
signed the release, and he was speeding
back with it. Everyone sighed. It was
all right to go on with the show.
I HAVE become accustomed to drama
behind the Lux Radio Theatre's vel-
vet curtain such as I have not witnessed
in any other phase of what will pass, I
venture, for a rather eventful career —
a career including a 40-week, 46-state
siege of one night stands, acting and
directing on the Broadway and London
stage, and 14 years as a Hollywood mo-
tion picture director.
A control booth Einstein has figured
out that into the overall production of
the Lux Theatre to date have gone some
seven million words, which if printed
on single teletype tape would stretch
2,500 miles; 35,000 pages of script which,
laid end to end, would extend 60 miles
and drive out of their minds every street
cleaner en route; roughly 13,000 music
bridges, and approximately 60,000 sound
effects conjured up by Lux's fabulous
noisemaker, Charles Forsyth, at the rate
of 105 a show. More than 400 of Holly-
wood's all-time most glamorous movie
stars had performed in upwards of 600
Lux adaptations of motion picture hits
by the end of 1947.
You cannot wade through that wil-
derness of statistics without some of the
most carefully laid plans going awry.
Week in and week out, comedy, pathos
and suspense are the real life ingredi-
ents backstage in the Lux Radio Thea-
tre. To thirty-two million faithful
listeners, Operation Lux is a flawless
radio presentation which has come
across the airlanes for more than 14
years without miscue or mishap. As
far as Lux fans know, all the tumult and
humor of this continually high-Hoop-
ered one hour show is contained in the
adaptations of popular motion pictures,
and in the performances of the stars
who come to the Lux microphone.
Rarely is there hint of the problems
involved in getting the show on and off
the air with clocklike regularity. Lit-
tle is the armchair patron aware of fe-
verish races against deadlines, of the
talent and perspiration, of the heart-
break and headache poured into a Ra-
dio Theatre presentation.
'Even dress rehearsal at the Playhouse
is subject to disruptions, particularly
during invasions by itinerant inebri-
ates. When these vagabonds are spot-
ted, they are gently eased out.
One slightly tipsy, well-dressed gent
crashed the dress rehearsal not long ago,
ensconced himself in the front row, and
proceeded to interrupt the performance
with admittedly intelligent criticism.
However, his comment was uncompli-
mentary, and he was asked to leave,
which he did gracefully and with dis-
patch.
I shall not soon forget the night that
adulation for one of my stars took on
the proportions of a near riot. Before
the curtain fell on our adaptation of
"You Came Along," an army of girls
stormed the footlights with a rain of
oohs-and-ahs, accompanied by franti-
cally extended autograph albums. Only
the timely arrival of a contingent of
Los Angeles policemen prevented them
from swarming onto the stage and kid-
naping Van Johnson while the show still
was on the air.
Although this demonstration was
quelled without discernible catastrophe,
I will admit that at least one distaff
fan achieved a moral victory. A life-
size photo of Johnson appeared in a
glass showcase in the lobby of the Vine
Street Playhouse, and when I went
home I noticed that one of Van's ad-
mirers had left her lipstick prints on
the glass across the photographic im-
age of his own lips.
Often comic relief is provided by
fans far from the CBS auditorium. In
its day the Radio Theatre has been
held responsible for a burning house,
called to task for doubting the biting
potentials of dead bees, and praised for
dramatizing the story of a horse that
wouldn't be caught dead without the
sponsor's product.
It was a curious, yet amusing twist
of logic that laid the conflagration at
our doorstep. A listener wrote indig-
nantly that his home wquld not have
gone up in flames if he had not dialed
the program. He had become so en-
grossed, he complained, that he did not
notice his house was afire until it was
too late to do anything but flee the in-
ferno with his own skin intact.
WALTER BRENNAN'S Lux perform-
*' ance in "To Have and Have Not" as
the dipsomaniac who badgered everyone
he encountered with the question, "Was
you ever bit by a dead bee?" brought
next day a special delivery protest from
an outraged woman.
"I stepped on a dead bee last night,"
she bristled, "and I was bitten by it.
So you see dead bees do bite."
Having learned not to underestimate
dead bees, I nevertheless continued to
open my fan mail with sublime faith.
The letter from one Fred J. Loelndorfer
following the adaptation of "Thunder-
head, Son of Flicka," no doubt warmed
the sudsy cockles of the sponsor's heart.
Loelndorfer owned the yearling colt
which had played the title role in the
movie. He was glad that it was Lux
Theatre which had brought the film to
the air.
"I am pleased that the movie was pre-
sented on your radio program," Mr.
Loelndorfer wrote to me, "because I use
Lux on all my horses. It is the only
thing I know that will keep their manes
and tails clean."
Another unsolicited testimonial came
from the grandson of my good friend,
Dr. Harry Kaufman, of Washington,
D.C. This lad, imbued with a sense of
listener obligation to the people who
make the program available, praised
the Radio Theatre in glowing terms and
took pains to assure me that "my sister
uses Lux and has a wonderful com-
plexion." I learned later from Dr. Kauf-
man that the boy's sister was four years
old.
One tribute to my sponsor's ubiqui-
tous product came to me from a listener
who had received from a friend in
France a linen tablecloth embroidered
fin Belgian lace. Enclosed with this fine
gift was a note, written in French, rec-
ommending that the cloth be washed in
Lux.
My own slight contribution is the
fact that when I joined the show on a
permanent basis I purchased an extra
pair of eyeglasses, with lenses ground
for the special requirements of broad-
casting. Based on the distance between
my eyes and the script, a large area
of these bifocals was for reading, while
the smaller upper portion was for re-
ceiving timing signals at a greater
distance.
This might seem like an extraord-
inary precaution, but as surely as day
follows night, the evening came when
I was on stage two minutes before cur-
tain, and I discovered that I had left
my regular glasses in the dressing room.
You can imagine how relieved I was
to be able to reach into another pocket
and come up with my extra pair.
NOT instinct, but an embarrassing ex-
perience in my early days as an actor
prompted me to carry two pairs of eye-
glasses on every broadcast. Years ago,
on the road, I played an Englishman
in "Officer 666." In a climactic scene,
I was supposed to fetch a pair of hand-
cuffs out of my pocket and fasten them
to my wrists. I fumbled in vain for
my props. I tried, under the circum-
stances, to cover up by turning my back
to the audience and letting them assume
that I was in handcuffs. I have never
forgotten that I could have avoided this
debacle had I had two pairs of hand-
cuffs.
Would that fear of missing glasses
were an isolated deadline scare! Con-
sider the night Bette Davis was billed
for the Radio Theatre in "The Letter."
Five minutes before showtime, Bette
ran out of her dressing room, her face
contorted in pain, her hands clutching
her throat.
"I've taken poison!" she cried.
No, Miss Davis was not attempting
suicide, and she was not jesting. To
relieve a severe headache she had
poured the contents of a little bottle
into a glass of water and had tossed it
off. Instead of headache powder, it was
insect poison. However, her alert chauf-
fer saved the day. He rushed back an
antidote in time for Bette to answer her
opening cue.
To me, in particular, the thought of
Bette Davis taking poison by accident
or design was unbearable. With good
reason, I have a deep personal interest
in her career. I take pride in being
Bette's discoverer. I sensed her latent
dramatic qualities the moment I saw
her inundated by an enormous costume
in the leading role of the graduation
play at the John Murray Anderson
Dramatic School in New York City.
I was directing A. A. Milne's "The
Ivory Door" on the Broadway stage, and
I summoned this promising girl for a
reading. I liked her work, but the pro-
ducer, Charles Hopkins, had reserva-
tions, so Miss Davis' professional debut
was delayed. But not for long.
Three months later, Hopkins saw
Bette in a little theater in Greenwich
Village and raved over her as a sensa-
tional new find. He didn't realize she
was the same girl he had rejected a
short time ago. Bette soon won a part
in "Skidding" — the play on which
MGM based its Andy Hardy series —
which ran for one year on Bro?>rh"Ty,
and proved her springboard to Holly-
wood and all that went with it.
^ and now
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I didn't meet Bette again until 1932
when I, too, was in Hollywood, and she
was cast in "Cabin in the Cotton," with
Richard Barthelmess. As dialogue di-
rector of the film, I was instructed by
the studio's high command to give the
Davis girl special attention because she
had all the earmarks of a great prospect.
"Cabin in the Cotton" was the movie
in which Bette switched from ingenue
to the-other-woman portrayals, and I
was happy to have Hollywood confirm
my own early impression of the Davis
talents. On the Warner Brothers lot,
I later* directed Bette in "Special
Agent," "The Bride Came C.O.D.," and
"The Man Who Came to Dinner."
Miss Davis is a most accomplished
actress, and outside of the near tragedy
when she swallowed poison by mistake,
the only problem I ever had with her
was during the shooting of "The Bride
Came C.O.D." In a sequence when a
gun was fired, Bette continually reacted
before the weapon went off.
After scores of futile takes, I sug-
gested that we avoid her premature
flinching by doing the scene without
firing the gun. Not suspecting that I
was perpetrating a deception, Bette
agreed. When the shot came, she had
not expected it, and the scene was
perfect. Bette however, was furious.
"Damn you, Bill Keighley," she
roared. "I'll never trust you again."
One of the continuing joys of produc-
ing Radio Theatre is that I am con-
stantly renewing old acquaintances. In
New York in 1930, I produced and di-
rected a play called "Penny Arcade."
In the cast were an independent little
Irishman named James Cagney, a ge-
nial character actor named George Bar-
bier, and a vivacious blonde named Joan
Blondell. They are somewhat better
known now as movie stars, and it al-
ways is old home week for me when
they appear in Lux presentations.
"Penny Arcade" brought Jimmy and
Joan to Hollywood when Warner Broth-
ers purchased the screen rights. My
first assignment as permanent Lux pro-
ducer found Joan co-starring with
James Stewart in "Destry Rides Again."
"I've worked with Blondell and Cag-
ney on three levels — on the New York
stage, in movies and on radio. I directed
Cagney in such films as "Blood on the
Sun," "G-Men," "The Fighting 69th,"
"The Bride Came C.O.D.," and Joan in
"Kansas City Princess" and "Bullets or
Ballots."
In "Bullets or Ballots" another mem-
ber of my cast was Edward G. Robin-
son. Eddie and I started as actors at
the same time. In simultaneous New
York productions against World War I
backgrounds, Eddie appeared in "Un-
der Fire" while I performed in "Inside
the Lines." We also went to Europe
and studied French at the same time.
It was not until I directed Eddie in
"Bullets or Ballots" that I had occasion
to work with him again.
I directed Lux regulars Jimmy Stew-
art and Rosalind Russell in Warner
Brothers' "No Time for Comedy," and
I performed with Ethel Barrymore in
"Romeo and Juliet" on the Paris and
Broadway stages.
Consequently when I introduce my
stars on the Radio Theatre and de-
scribe them as my old friends, I am not
making fictional conversation, but re-
lating facts in which I take much
pleasure.
Jimmy Cagney, for instance, did not
become a theatrical renegade, as so
many believe, only after he acquired
movie riches. When I was casting
"Penny Arcade" on Broadway, Jimmy
displayed the same temperament then
for which he was to become famous as a
screen star. He was newly married and
broke when I offered him $200 a week
to do the part, but Jimmy boldly de-
manded $250. Even though we were
adamant, Jimmy was not intimidated by
his need, and he delivered a $250 or
nothing dictum. He got $250.
There are, in fact, few Lux perform-
ers whom I have not met before under
different professional circumstances,
either on the stage or on a motion pic-
ture set. Mary Astor, who played in
"Cynthia" for me on Lux, acted in the
first movie I directed, "Easy to Love."
Another leading lady in that film was
Genevieve Tobin. Her path and mine
cross quite often these days. This is
manifestly unavoidable since she is my
wife.
Unlike Bette Davis, Don Ameche pro-
vided not a suicidal, but a bacchanalian
fright soon after I took over as producer.
"Oh, Mr. Keighley," he said, "would
you excuse me a minute. I've got to
have a drink. I never go on without
one."
What Don Ameche or anyone else did
in private life I respect as none of my
concern, but drinking in a radio studio
could be tolerated no more than it
would be on a motion picture set. I
followed Ameche into the Green Room
— the Lux Theatre lounge — to tell him
so. It was too late. I found him with
the bottle to his mouth — swallowing a
pint of milk.
Not I, but the engineer was convinced
the world no longer was revolving on its
orbit the time Dick Powell was rehears-
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"TRUE DETECTIVE MYSTERIES" are absolutely TRUE. Every story,
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ing "T Men," and nary a sound came
into the control booth. Frantic, the
mixer — as the engineer is called —
turned knobs, clicked switches on and
off, and pulled cords to no avail. He
became panic stricken at the seeming
mysterious breakdown of his apparatus.
He looked through the glass, and
there Dick was, emoting to beat all,
going through elaborate gestures, open-
ing wide his mouth so that every syl-
lable would be distinct. Yet not a mur-
mur registered. Finally, other members
of the cast broke up in laughter, and
the engineer learned he had been the
victim of a Powell prank. Dick had
been moving his lips, but had not been
saying anything.
I remember, as probably most fans
have forgotten, when Dick was typed
as a musical comedy star — and a very
good one. I directed him in one of
these Warner extravaganzas, "Varsity
Show." It was not until he was cast
in tough private eye roles that Dick es-
sayed a film comeback. When I men-
tioned at a rehearsal the sharp change
in his movie roles, Dick laughed, "Yes,
and there's also been a change in my
pocketbook — upward."
NOT all equipment breakdowns are
jokes or joking matters, as sound
man Forsyth can attest. The muted
motor, the squeaking gate, the prema-
ture fusillade and the plateslide are
harrowing broadcast episodes that still
evoke shudders upon recollection.
During a show guest-starring Bob
Burns, the script called for, in the
order named, a music bridge, the sound
of an automobile pulling away, another
music bridge denoting lapse of travel
time, the sound of crickets, indicating
new surroundings, and lastly the sound
of the same car coming in at full swell
and then halting.
After the second music bridge,
Charlie put the needle down on the rec-
ords on which he had captured the
sound of the approaching halting car
and the sound of the crickets. The disc
was dead. The amplifier tube had
blown out.
"I felt," Forsyth revealed later, "like
a man on the top of a hill who applies
his brakes and finds there aren't any."
Charlie quickly fell back on another
sound prop, a car door. He slammed
it with relish, following which he simu-
lated footsteps. Thus with different
sounds he established the same effect.
Another incident that sandpapered
Forsyth's nerves occurred during the
presentation of "Random Harvest,"
starring Academy winner Ronald Col-
man. Charlie was using, for the first
time, a wooden gate on which he had
lavished nine months of labor to per-
fect a squeak that would be recognized
instantly by the listening audience. He
had taken it apart and put it together
innumerable times. He had had the
prop weathered and reweathered, had
had the hinges sanded and resanded,
and had experimented with the gate
tirelessly until it rewarded him with
just the sound he wanted.
Colman played an amnesia victim
who returned instinctively to the cot-
tage where his faithful wife had clung
to hope, not knowing what had hap-
pened to him. The gate to his home
always had squeaked. Before her hus-
band had disappeared, the squeak in-
variably had told the woman of his
return. That was how it was supposed
to be in the poignant climax.
At the crucial second, Charles flung
open his treasured gate. It did not
squeak. It was noiseless. The impact
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of the play would have been lost, the
climactic scene ruined if quick-thinking
Colman had not called out, "Darling, I
see you have finally oiled the gate."
Forsyth later cleared up the mystery.
He had told his young assistant to clean
up after dress rehearsal. When his
obedient hireling chanced to hear the
gate squeak, he betook himself like the
eager beaver he was, and oiled it.
Once Charlie's own over-zealousness
got him in a tight spot. In "Destry
Rides Again," Jimmy Stewart was to
establish his marksmanship in a strange
town. This is how the sequence ap-
peared in the script:
Stewart — "You see that sign down
the street? You see those five orna-
ments on top?"
Other man — "Yeah."
Stewart — "Now you see 'em. . . ."
Sound — five pistol shots in rapid or-
der.
Stewart — "Now you don't."
That is not the way it happened.
Stewart no sooner said, "You see those
five ornaments on top?" then Forsyth
literally jumped the gun and fired a
volley of five shots. Unfazed, Stewart
kept pace with the telescoped cue and
observed dryly, "Now you don't see 'em
anymore."
Forsyth must have had the worst mo-
ment of his career when Bette Davis
delivered her curtain speech after the
third act of "The Letter." This was a
tense, dramatic production. Anything
incongruous would destroy the care-
fully built up mood. Charlie had ready
a pile of plates which he planned to use
in a dish-washing commercial two min-
utes later.
Seated on a stool, he turned halfway
around. As he did so, his elbow dis-
lodged the plates. They cascaded to
the floor with a deafening clatter.
Charlie looked down at the stage for a
sign of the chaos he was sure must
have been precipitated by the accident.
He was amazed. Nobody showed evi-
dence that he had heard the thunderous
plateslide.
Then Forsyth realized what had saved
him. The sound booth was off stage,
and the tumultuous applause of the
audience had drowned out the racket of
the falling dishes.
Forsyth is without peer in his craft.
Yet chance lays its booby-traps for him,
as it does for all this carefully thought
out, carefully planned, rigorously re-
hearsed production. For example, it
may take more than an hour of trial
and error elimination to master one ef-
fect. There was one such afternoon
when Joseph Cotten rehearsed "I'll Be
Seeing You." The only sound in a
highly dramatic scene was the beating
of Cotten's heart. Easier said than
simulated.
Charlie trotted out an amazing assort-
ment of devices. He even held the mi-
crophone to his own heart. But he did
not achieve an authentic reproduction
of a heartbeat until, by chance, he
tapped the base of the microphone with
his forefinger. If it is humanly possible
to prevent error through exhaustive
preparation, no mortal in radio is more
foolproof than Forsyth.
Yet the most painstaking falter, and
I do not except myself. That is why I
go over my script at least 50 times in
advance every week, marking every if,
and, and but for pause and emphasis. I
listen to recordings of every show and
often ferret out in that manner flaws
of which I am not aware during a broad-
cast.
Among my most memorable experi-
ences was the night that genial, lum-
bering Wallace Beery appeared in
"Barnacle Bill." He had insisted upon
making the radio version a family
affair. He wanted his brother, Noah,
co-starred, as well as his daughter,
Carole Ann. We were quite content to
gratify his wish, but fate was not.
Noah Beery died suddenly on a Sun-
day night, the eve of the broadcast.
Wally, faithful to the code of the thea-
ter, went on with the show, a broad
farcical comedy. Neither he nor his
daughter wore mourning bands, nor did
they do anything else to indicate their
grief to the audience. I knew Wallace's
sorrow, and to me it was Pagliacci at
his most gripping.
The ancient creed of the theater, so
sacred to Wallace Beery, has ever been
the guiding core of Radio Theatre. That
is why the program has become one of
the most respected institutions on the
air, and why it has survived while
other, more pretentious broadcasting
ideas have proved ephemeral.
I came as a guest and remained as
producer and host. So it was with
maestro Lou Silvers. Silvers won the
first Academy Award for motion pic-
ture music. He received an offer, as a
result, to lead the Lux orchestra. He
had had no previous radio experience
and craved none, but friends urged him
to accept the engagement for the pres-
tige involved.
"You won't be stuck," he was assured.
"The show will fold any day. That
sort of thing doesn't last."
That was thirteen years ago. The
Radio Theatre show has gone on — de-
spite races against deadlines and
squeakless gate squeaks.
all amerieu heeps a date with
Bert Parks
©re "STOP THE MUSIC"
Many a pot boils over in millions of American
homes every Sunday night — because Mom, Pop and
all the kids sit around with one ear on the radio,
one ear cocked to the family telephone.
Reason: a sensational radio show called "Stop
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He may be colling you!
Tune in '"STOP THE MUSIC" Every Sunday
Bert Parks tells his own life story in the current issue
of TRUE STORY magazine now at newsstands.
My Friend Irma
(Continued from page 31)
a habit that's easily broken. I'd have
been as forlorn as Metro minus Gold-
wyn and Mayer if I hadn't been able
to keep all my folks around me. The
bulk of my inheritance was spent on
a house in Hollywood big enough to
accommodate all my near relatives, and
some who were never around except at
mealtime. Then we laid in a big stock
of canned goods, enough to keep our
waistlines at full measure for a couple
of months till I should have attained
stardom.
Naturally, to my sixteen-year-old
"mind," the essential ingredient for suc-
cess in Hollywood was "front," and for
that you had to have a fur coat — and it
had to be mink. Even in those days
you didn't go shopping for mink at
Woolworth. After I'd written the check
for the coat I found I'd have to wear
it with my old shoes. After all, where
can you get a pair of shoes for $1.13?
Only — my old shoes were tennis shoes
— and they were all I had.
Next morning I donned my shining
armor — my mink — and sallied forth to
attack the casting directors. It was a
misty cool morning when I started out.
But by noon, after I'd found several
studio gatemen strangely impervious to
the glamor of mink, the sun had been
out for a couple of hours, and inside of
that coat — well, all I can say is, I don't
see how the minks stand it on hot days.
I COULDN'T take the darn thing off,
* because underneath it, I was wearing
a house dress which was plastered to
me as if I'd been standing under a
shower. My cheeks felt as if you could
have broiled steaks in their glow, and
I imagine I looked about as wan and
ethereal as a boiled lobster.
My last stop this side of Complete
Despair was Central Casting, where film
extras are registered and informed of
day-by-day jobs in the studios — a size-
able comedown from stardom. But still,
an extra, when she was working, was
in the movies, so I went there. My ar-
rival in the crowded waiting room of
that agency created a considerable stir
of creaking necks and popping eyes.
But encouragement came with the
man at the desk. He leaned back in
his chair and looked me over apprecia-
tively. "Whatta sensa yuma, whatta
sensa yuma! Honey blonde hair, fur
coat, blackface, and tennis shoes."
I smiled. Blackface? Then it hit me —
my mascara must have melted and run.
I kept on smiling, but my face got aw-
fully tired.
The man told me, "Theh needin' ex-
tras for a comedy over at Hal Roach's
tamarra mornin'. Six-thirty. Be theh.
Just like you are. Don't change a thing."
That's how I started what we laugh-
ingly refer to as my movie career. And
after three years of extra work I was
no nearer stardom than if I'd stayed in
Anaheim. Did I get discouraged? Cer-
tainly, I did. Nobody but a nitwit
would have failed to get discouraged.
I got so discouraged I even spent
some of my earnings as an extra for
dramatic lessons, before I got them —
the earnings, I mean. If there were
mornings, and believe me there were,
when the prospect of getting up in the
gray dawn in order to be on some movie
lot by six-thirty or seven seemed less
than enticing, the thought of the money
I owed for my coaching was sufficient
to propel me out of bed. By staying in
debt, I kept myself liberally supplied
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with necessary incentive for working.
However, there came a time, when
I was about nineteen, when I felt com-
pelled to stop and ask myself: "Wilson,
whither are we heading?"
So I put on my mink coat and went
to see a director with whom I'd scraped
up an acquaintance over a flooded car-
buretor. He'd de-flooded it for me, and
consequently could be counted on, I
hoped, to feel kindly toward me, pos-
sibly even helpful. Helpful turned out
to be the word; he got me a screen test
at MGM. Everyone was nice, but noth-
ing happened.
Meanwhile, over at Warners the
Brothers were desperate. A friend of
mine who worked nights there cleaning
the offices told me about it.
"There they were at two o'clock in
the morning," my friend reported, "the
four of them, chewing their cigars and
the corners of the rug and moaning
there wasn't an actress in Hollywood
dumb enough to be convincing in the
feminine lead of Boy Meets Girl."
Right there I sensed that that part
was for me. I was right. I got it.
Among the actors who supported me
were James Cagney and Pat O'Brien.
They were awfully nice and so were the
critics after the picture was released.
Some of them even crawled so far out
on a limb as to say, "A new star has
appeared in the Hollywood firmament."
And then went on and sawed it off by
adding, "Surely the Brothers Warner
will be planning new vehicles for their
enticing discovery, Marie Wilson."
For accuracy, this prediction ranked
right next to the then current one that
the French would whip Hitler in sixty
days.
Of course I had a contract with War-
ner Brothers, one that paid me a nice
salary, but contracts have little thing-
umajigs in them known as renewal
clauses or options. And an option, when
dropped from a sufficient altitude, can
be a deadly weapon. It nearly killed
me when Warners dropped mine.
Then Anita Loos decided she'd finally
found someone dumb enough (me) to
play Lorelie in a play version of "Gen-
tlemen Prefer Blondes." Our play had
a brisk run of three weeks on the straw
hat circuit, and then folded. Whose
fault this was is a matter I'll be glad
to ignore — now and forever. Anita was
very kind about it to me. She didn't
say anything.
However, I didn't let the play's flop
cheat me out of the visit to New York
I'd been looking forward to. Anita's
capacity for forgiveness was so great
she even took me around to several
parties, introducing me to producers,
critics, and other important people.
But still by the time I'd been in New
York six weeks, I was getting so darn
homesick that my long distance calls
to my folks back in Hollywood were
one of the brightest pages in the Bell
Telephone Company's earnings report
for that year. Mama said my two
younger brothers were so depressed by
my absence they'd quit throwing
oranges at each other during breakfast
— poor darlings — and Uncle Gier said he
had a big deal cooking for me. One or
two of the producers whom I'd met
had hinted that unemployment would
not figure seriously in my problems if
I'd stick around. But I wanted to go
home, and I went.
Now comes the nicest part of this
story, the part where I meet Allan. It
happened on the Republic lot, where
I'd gone to work shortly after my re-
turn from New York. The picture was
one of the first about women in the
armed services. The Waves or Wacs,
I'm not sure which. I had the second
feminine lead in the picture, playing a
comedy blonde against Helen Terry, the
lovely brunette who had the lead. Helen
and I wore identical costumes in the
picture, uniforms. It seems the armed
services are awfully hide-bound about
those little feminine touches that could
give . individuality to their uniforms. I
found that out when the director of the
picture told me I positively couldn't
wear the sash I'd put on to make my
costume a little different.
I tried to reason with him. "How are
they going to tell Helen and me apart
in the picture, if we're both dressed
exactly alike?" I asked.
I never saw a man act so silly over
a simple question. He certainly looked
idiotic beating himself over the head
with the assistant director. "Helen's a
brunette!" he screamed.
"Do you think I'm blind?" I fired
back. "I know that." They took him
away and got another director.
But to get back to meeting Allan.
Helen and I were doing a dance routine
together on one of the sound stages one
day when I noticed a couple fellows
I'd seen around the lot before eyeing
us pretty closely. At this time, the FBI
was watching everything, but my con-
science was clear, I wasn't worried. I
was just hoping I could get a closer
look at the taller one of the two fellows
who were surveying us. From our dis-
tance, he looked like something I'd have
been delighted to get a better look at.
A little later, after Helen and I had
finished our scene and were freshening
our make-up at dressing tables on the
side of the stage, the big guy strolled
66
oh
BLONDIE
•>•>
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over, took up a position about fifteen
points off my port beam, and said,
"Hello."
I twisted around on my chair and
said, "Hello."
Then for awhile the conversation lan-
guished. I knew it would sound silly
if I busted right out and said what I
was thinking, "Gosh, you're beautiful."
He did, though, finally. He said it
right out. "Gosh, you're beautiful."
That sort of cleared the way for me.
"I think you are too," I said
"Are you doing anything tonight?"
he asked.
"Nothing except whatever you have
in mind," I said.
That's how Allan and I made our first
date. That evening he told me a little
more of the circumstances which had
led to our meeting. He wasn't from the
FBI at all. He was an actor, working
for Republic, too. He said he and his
friend, a writer, had stopped by to
watch Helen and me and had gotten
into a little debate. The subject was:
Which One of the Two Cupcakes Had
You Rather Be Stuck Between Floors
With in an Elevator. And Allan — well,
he said he'd rather the blonde.
SO Allan and I were married in 1942.
Shortly after, he entered the Army
Air Force as an enlisted man, and came
out four years later a sergeant.
It wasn't very wonderful for me
while he was gone. It would have been
downright dismal if I hadn't kept busy,
sometimes as many as sixty or seventy
hours a week. Thirty hours of all my
weeks since the summer of 1942 have
been contributed to Ken Murray's
Blackouts, in return for which Ken
gives me a sizable weekly contribution.
Days, I work in the movie studios on
days when they've got work for me.
Which is fairly frequently. There have
been no more starring roles for me,
but plenty of good secondary parts. I
believe I like them better. Then, if the
picture flops, you don't have to go
around explaining why it wasn't your
fault.
A year ago, Irma came into my life.
Irma is the creation of a man named Cy
Howard who works for CBS, although
I have heard rumors that sometimes
CBS feels it's the other way around.
Anyway, Mr. Howard, who is devoted
to me sometimes for as long as twenty
minutes a week, thought I would be the
right person to play Irma in his radio
show. He called me one day and asked
me to come over to the studio and meet
his brainchild. I did; she seemed a con-
genial sort of person for me to be,
so I took the job. For her first twenty
weeks Irma was sponsorless, which in
radio is a condition equivalent to public
nudity. Then Lever Brothers adopted
her, and now she's decently covered
with soapsuds. And it looks — Hooper
willing — as though she were going to
stay that way for quite a while. Which
is fine with me — especially since I've
given myself this airing!
Margaret and Barbara Whiting
have strong ideas about being sisters
— and they talk about each other
in the
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Blondie — My Favorite Mother
(Continued from page 41)
recently that she should really learn to
cook. She secured a home, economics
expert, Mrs. Cleo Kerley, as cooking
coach and for weeks our table looked
like Christmas at the Waldorf. The
only trouble was that when Mother
was studying salads, we had seven
kinds for dinner one night.
By the time she had worked her way
through the cook book to desserts,
Daddy humorously brought home a
stack of hamburgers as a precaution.
This was a smart move as the ham-
burgers tasted very good after a dinner
consisting of Baked Alaska, Cherries
Jubilee, floating island, fudge cake,
and boysenberry mousse. No one was
sick afterward, either.
Nowadays the experimental stage is
over, so we are living on the best bal-
anced diet outside a health farm. Our
calories are counted in fractions and
you should see our vitamins and min-
erals pile up.
The innocent bystander might sup-
pose that this gorgeous food would
ruin the famous Singleton figure. Most
of my girl friends' mothers are careful
about bread and potatoes, but not that
mother of mine! She can eat two break-
fasts per day (one with Daddy before
he leaves for the studio, and a second
with Susy and me before we leave for
school), she can lunch on salad and
orange rolls, and she can dine on steak,
baked potato, and French pastry but
the next day she will be able to fasten
the twenty-two-inch waistband of her
peasant skirt without even holding her
breath.
Daddy says she has so much energy
that she burns up enough fuel to run
a studio power plant. Daddy and
Mother have many jokes between them
— they are always laughing about some-
thing that Susy and I haven't been told,
but we don't mind. Mother has ex-
plained to us that everyone should
have a secret which is shared with only
one or two persons in your own family.
Mother and I have several lovely sec-
crets; Susy and Mother have a secret
or two. At Christmas time Mother and
Susy and I have secrets from Daddy;
Daddy, Susy and I have secrets from
Mother. Conspirators, that's what we
are, but it gives us a cozy feeling of
being in on important events.
I have a girl friend who sort of
laughed at this tradition. She said that
she and her mother had never shared
a secret in their lives. As Mother says,
of course, every family is different and
every family has to plan its life in its
own way but she agrees with me that
a girl who has never had a strictly
confidential talk with her mother is
missing quite a lot in life. My goodness,
I wouldn't know what to do with my-
self if I couldn't hurry home from
school, swear Mother to secrecy, and
tell her some utterly exciting thing that
had happened.
Sometimes our secrets aren't really
solemn. Sometimes they are about a
surprise dessert on Sunday, or a new
sweater I am going to wear horseback
riding. But sometimes the cross-your-
heart subject is the stork's plan to
bring a new baby to someone in our
neighborhood. (Susy still believes in
the stork.)
My mother is good at giving a person
self-confidence. I am already taller
than she is, and I am built — let's be
frank — on the knitting needle pattern:
long and slim. When I realized that
I am going to be five feet six or seven
before I stop growing (I am now four-
teen) I began to slump. I let my shoul-
ders fall forward and I carried my head
on the side. It made me seem almost
as little as my school friends or Mother,
I thought.
I didn't get away with it. Mother
noticed what I was doing and we had
one of our "open forurn" talks. She
said that she had always wanted to be
taller than she is and she explained
why. She thinks that tall women wear
their clothing to greater advantage;
she thinks they can be more daring
in their choice of color and line. Some-
how I had never thought how nice a
tall girl could look if she wouldn't ooze
around all bent over like a pretzel.
Incidentally, I think Mother has won-
derful taste in clothes. When the "new
look" came in, she predicted that it
wouldn't last more than two months.
She bought some long, inexpensive
peasant outfits and moved her good
things to a cedar closet to await devel-
opments. Well, the developments were
all toward the floor, so — -because we
girls wear our suits much shorter than
our mothers do — I inherited all of
Mother's wardrobe. Her suits, her af-
ternoon dresses, her coats! A great day.
There is one time, though, when
Mother couldn't get on an American
best-dressed list, I'm afraid. One of
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the funniest sights I have ever seen is
the spectacle of Mother flying around
the kitchen when she is preparing
breakfast in the morning. Her favorite
costume is a pair of play shorts, a
matching shirt, and billowing kitchen
apron. From the front, Mother is a
picture of pinafored domesticity, but
from the rear she looks like a drawing
from Esquire.
I suppose every mother and daughter
have some disagreements about what
is the correct thing for the daughter to
wear on certain occasions. I know that
Mother and I differ (very politely, of
course) with each other on one thing.
I am practically grown up, so I think
I should be allowed to have a black
satin date dress. Every girl I know
thinks she should have a black satin
date dress when she is old enough —
which is now.
Mother has never given me a flat
"no;" she gets around me by suggesting
that we buy "mother & daughter" out-
fits . . . which I love, but which are
not made in black satin. I know that
she is getting around me when she does
it, but she's so cute that I just laugh
and let the black satin go for the time
being. Maybe, in a year or so, I'll
change my mind about wanting it any-
way . . . which is what Mother says
I'll do.
I1NCHANGING as is Mother's taste in
U regard to her daughter's wardrobes,
she is unpredictable as to her own
wardrobe or hair style. Particularly
the latter, a fact that made me the
victim of one of her whims.
For several weeks Mother had been
wearing her hair brushed sleekly away
from a center part, braided in two
plaits, then worn with the plaits crossed
over the top of her head. The style was
a favorite with Daddy because, he said
it made Mother look like Susy's young-
er sister.
A girl friend and I were emerging
from a matinee one Saturday when I
caught sight of a pretty blonde person
walking up the street. She was wearing
her hair in Mother's style, she was
wearing a white blouse and a peasant
skirt much like one that Mother had,
so naturally I uttered a whoop and
rushed up to slide my arm around her
waist and shout, "What are you doing
here, Mommy?"
"I beg your pardon," said the blonde
lady who was a total stranger to me.
I nearly died of humiliation. I ex-
plained to my girl friend that my
mother was wearing her hair in pig-
tails, criss-crossed, and that my mother
had a peasant outfit exactly like the
strange lady's . . . etc. etc. We reached
home, and you can imagine my embar-
rassment at finding Mrs. Robert Sparks
with her hair falling loose about her
face in one of those soft new bobs. My
problem parent!
When Mother isn't cooking, shopping
or thinking up new hair styles, she
keeps busy by working at one of her
hobbies. Several of these hobbies are
things which Susy and I share with
Mother. For instance, when we started
to take dancing lessons. Mother decided
to join us. "You'll crack something,"
predicted Susy, the pessimistic member
of our family.
Not only were there no ill affects
to Mother's physique, but our dancing
lessons revealed her as the most lithe
and limber member of our family. She
is what the dancing teacher calls a
"natural." That is, her muscular co-
ordination is almost perfect and she
"catches on" to steps quickly.
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Susy and I discovered promptly that
if we didn't quite understand what the
teacher was trying to convey, we
needn't worry. That night in our "open
forum" meeting, we could ask Mother
about it and she could show us exactly
what had been meant and how to do it.
When Susy and I started to take
music lessons, Mother decided to study
with us, although she had learned the
rudiments of piano several years ago.
I'm a little better with the bass than
she is, on some types of music, and
she's better in the treble, so we play
two-handed duets. You should hear
Daddy laugh. He says we are no threat
to the supremacy of Jose and Amparo
Iturbi.
We are a threat to Gene Autry and
Roy Rogers, though — as soon as we
learn to sing! Mother, Susy and I are
taking riding lessons. Susy and I — well
— we stick on. But you would think
Mother was a little old gaucho. One
afternoon Susy and I were riding with
the groom while Mother and the in-
structor trotted ahead, practicing a
technique known as "posting." A pair
of sailors galloped past us just as one
said to the other, "Oh boy, look at that
gorgeous blonde. Bet I can make a
date with her."
SUSY and I merely looked at each
other out of the corners of our eyes,
and thought, "If he only knew!"
I do think Susy and I have been a
great help to Mother in her active
sports, but I can't say as much for our
participation in her passive hobbies.
I hate to bring this up, but Mother
collects stamps. She has catalogues,
files, boxes, glassine bags, and accor-
dion holders stacked here and there
throughout the house. One never knows
when Mother will wander through a
room pinching a stamp between tweez-
ers in one hand, while holding a huge
descriptive book in the other. All I can
say is that I'm glad she isn't wild about
butterflies.
The stamp collection and I met in
mortal combat when I needed a stamp
one morning for the ordinary purpose
of mailing a letter. Without thinking,
I rushed to Mother's desk, grabbed the
first pretty square I could find (I had
to separate it from a block of four) and
rushed on to school.
When I came home that afternoon I
noted at once that Mother was wearing
her Forbearing Expression. She ex-
plained that I had ruined a block of
four commemorative stamps that she
had secured after having written to
half a dozen stamp dealers. Nowadays,
nobody uses a stamp in our house with-
out first getting an okay from Mother.
My mother also collects buttons. I
don't know much about such things,
but from attending antique shows with
Mother, I assume that her collection
is a good one. I had my troubles with
that hobby, too. When I was a little
younger I decided, one rainy Sunday,
that I didn't like the buttons on one of
my sweaters.
I went to Mother's Unsorted Button
Box and finally matched a pretty set
of six very fancy buttons. I had been
wearing the sweater with its improved
trimming for nearly a week when
Mother suddenly noticed my handi-
work.
I will omit the next scene, the pain
of which will be apparent when I ex-
plain that I had used the buttons once
sewed on an evening cape belonging
to the Empress Eugenie. They were
priceless antiques.
Sometimes we think Mother's mother
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must have been frightened by a T-
square because Mother had a perfect
mania for building picture frames. She
frames everything having the slightest
pictorial or historical value. First she
mats the object on a square of wall-
paper which matches the color scheme
in the room in which Mother plans to
hang the completed artwork. Then she
frames the affair in a size to match
other pictures. Of course this addition
to her collection makes it necessary
for her to rearrange the display which
has been accumulating over the years.
"The poor woman's Louvre," Daddy
calls our living room.
As if all these interests weren't
enough to keep one woman busy,
Mother still manages to find time to
study child psychology. Originally this
was done for the benefit of Susy and
me, but later Mother's eagerness to
be of help to others caused her to ex-
tend her field.
Hundreds of Blondie program-listen-
ers write to Mother each week, saying
that some incident in the Blondie show
coincides with a life problem of their
own. They want Blondie to tell them
how she, as a person and not merely
as the actress on the program, would
unravel such a tangle.
Mother, pen firmly gripped in one
hand and psychology book in the other,
does her best to be helpful.
Sometimes I suggest (very tactfully,
of course) that she turn the full force
of psychology loose on my younger
sister, Susy. It's perfectly true that I
am the person who wanted Susy in the
first place. I kept suggesting, for years,
that we have a little sister, and I still
think it is a good idea with certain ex-
ceptions. I wish some psychologist
would think up a way to keep a little
sister from using all of her big sister's
cologne. She even emptied one bottle
of scent on our cat to make him glam-
orous. Personally, I suspect that it
ruined his standing with other cats.
Also, I am opposed to Susy's borrow-
ing my hand mirror and never return-
ing it; borrowing my shoes to play
"Lady"; borrowing my sweaters and
skirts for the same game. And then
leaving my clothing in a heap on my
bedroom floor.
When the pressure gets too great,
Mother and Susy and I sit down for
one of our meetings.
Once in awhile one of my girl friends
asks how it feels to be the daughter
of a famous woman. At first this made
me smile. I have always thought of
a famous woman as someone distant
and royal, like Madame Chiang Kai-
Shek, not someone sweet, laughing and
gay like my own mother.
But I must admit that it is convenient
for me to have a mother who is work-
ing in radio and motion pictures. When
I wanted autographed pictures of Cor-
nel Wilde and Randolph Scott, she got
them for me — zing — just like that.
Aside from these things, though,
Mother is just like the mothers of my
girl friends. She does her own market-
ing, loading half the neighborhood into
her station wagon when she is going to
the shops. She attends parties but once
in awhile. Usually she has turned out
her light by eight or nine o'clock each
night because Susy and I have to go to
bed early to be fresh for school the
next morning, and Daddy has to get
up at six in order to be at the studio
on time.
We are an ordinary American family:
fond of one another and proud of our
home. We work hard, play just enough,
and have plenty to laugh about.
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Grand Central Station
(Continued from page 25)
cultivated by Horrell. No script "un-
available" for the program ever goes
back to a writer accompanied only by
a printed form rejection slip. Horrell
returns the script with a helpful letter
of analysis and encouragement, some-
times suggesting changes, which, when
made, enable the writer to sell the play
to some other program.
To a great many radio listeners the
introductory format of the program
is one of the most pleasing and haunt-
ing arrangements of sound on the air.
This did not come about by accident.
Ten years ago when Horrell was plan-
ning the program he was undecided
between a great railroad station and
a metropolitan airport as a point of
arrival and departure for his charac-
ters. It was the greater appeal of the
railroad sound effects that led him to
choose the name Grand Central Station
after listening to all available record-
ings of airport and aviation sounds. The
railroad sound effects, he decided, were
more evocative and of greater variety.
Horrell spent two weeks arriving at
the exact opening that would establish
the mood he desired. The spoken words
of the narrator had to match the sound
effects to create a feeling of excitement
and anticipation; the words must follow
a definite rhythmic pattern. Poetic li-
cense was taken in the use of the sound
effects, which Horrell is the first to ad-
mit are not technically correct. Actu-
ally, electric engines bring all trains
into Grand Central, but they do not
have the aliveness for radio of a breath-
ing, roaring locomotive. Then, too, most
of the towns across the country are
more familiar with the steam engines.
However, so many listeners wrote in
calling attention to the inaccuracy that
Horrell composed a form letter explain-
ing why he used steam engine sound
effects instead of the efficient and un-
dramatic hum of the electric.
A railroad bigwig wrote a letter in-
quiring why, if Horrell was going to
use the Grand Central name, the cur-
rent designation, Grand Central Term-
inal, was not employed. There's a rea-
son: practically any spot survey would
show that four out of five New Yorkers
and visitors to the metropolis always
refer to the giant depot as Grand Cen-
tral Station.
The letters that give Horrell the
greatest pleasure are the ones contained
in an ever-expanding file marked "Con-
tented Authors." He takes great pains
with authors new to radio writing.
Horrell begins his week's work on
Sunday, hunting for a script. He's al-
ways well ahead on this part of his
labors, since the program is usually
scheduled three to four weeks in ad-
vance, but to stay that way he must
read 30 or 40 plays a week. The scripts
Horrell likes are read in turn by his
wife, Dorothy, and director Ira Ashley.
The script that is finally selected is
processed through Horrell's typewriter
for rewriting in order to preserve the
style he believes important to the show.
Set with a script, the fine machinery
of the Horrell production method be-
gins to whirr and hum toward the
weekly goal of perfection.
The producer discusses sound effects
with Ashley, who has been directing
the show for six seasons, and together
they plot the all-important "scenery"
of sound. GCS employs the talents of
one of radio's top sound-effect teams,
Jim Rogan and Francis Mellow. Noth-
ing makes these boys happier than a
script calling for a tricky sound. If they
haven't got the effect called for, they
will invent it.
Next step in "dressing the stage"
with sound is the musical background
provided by organist Lew White, a
gifted musician. Horrell listens to a
play-through of musical interludes im-
provised by White to heighten the mood
or underline the plot twist of the drama.
As Horrell nods approval of a passage
or a chord, White jots it down on a
roughly drawn staff on his copy of the
script. Unlike most, incidental music
in radio drama, Grand Central Station's
moods are more often expressed in the
terms of opera rather than the sym-
phony, the result no doubt of Dorothy
Horrell's experience as a singer in
grand opera in Europe and here.
On Friday, the day before the broad-
cast, Horrell has a read-through in the
studio with the actors, always a group
of top Broadway performers. To bring
the best stage talent to the air, the
Horrells attend every theatrical pro-
duction on Broadway during the year.
He has consistently refused to set up a
stock company of radio actors, prefer-
ring the use of different voices each
week and actors with a fresh approach
to the show. Many theatrical lumin-
aries have made their first radio ap-
pearances on the Horrell program. A
GREAT DAY
in
the
evening
!
Listen to Dennis Day, the brightest star in
radio, on "A Day In The Life Of Dennis
Day" every Saturday night (10 p.m. EST)
over NBC stations. The handsome young
Irishman sings, clowns, mimics his way
through a half hour of uproarious enter-
tainment.
Tune in
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SATURDAY NIGHT NBC
Read "My True Romance" by Dennis Day in the breath-
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Have you entered the
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notable GCS first this year was the
American radio debut of Frances Rowe,
charming and talented English star ap-
pearing on Broadway with Maurice
Evans in the Theater Guild Produc-
tion of "Man and Superman."
Final rehearsal begins Saturday
morning, three and a half hours before
broadcast time. As the actors go
through their paces, Horrell revises,
cuts, and polishes the script right up
to the last minute. A half-hour
lunch period and then everybody is
back to the studio for the 1 P. M.
broadcast.
If Martin Horrell's own career were
dramatized in the form of a radio script
Producer Horrell most probably would
reject it (with, of course, an accom-
panying note of kindly and helpful ex-
planation) as being too unreal accord-
ing to GCS standards. His story does
sound like streamlined Horatio Alger.
His father lost his money when his
business suffered complete collapse
during Martin's first year at the Uni-
versity of Chicago. The young student
wanted to quit college and go to work
to help out with the family finances,
but his father prevailed upon him to
continue his education come what may.
He did so, paying his way by campus
reporting for the Chicago Tribune,
dancing in vaudeville and nightclubs,
acting at Essanay movie studios, and
modeling. Despite his extracurricular
activities he made Phi Beta Kappa.
THE EAGER young graduate took a job
with a brokerage firm but, after two
dizzy days in Chicago's grain pit, de-
cided that advertising was much nearer
what he wanted. He began his career
with a Chicago advertising agency at
the handsome salary of $75 per month.
Somehow he had also managed to find
time to contribute successfully to var-
ious national magazines, which, natur-
ally enough for Horrell, led to his find-
ing time to conduct a course in short
story writing at the University of Chi-
cago.
His career was halted for a time by
his enlistment in the U. S. Navy's avi-
ation program in 1917. After getting
his commission as ensign, Horrell flew
the big twin Liberty engine H-16.
After his return from the service
Horrell joined a well known producer
of electrical appliances, as advertising
manager. Liking to work with his hands
and tools, he tinkered about and ex-
perimented until he had invented nine
gadgets. By the time he was 24,
Horrell was assistant to the President
and General Manager, Boy Wonder of
the manufacturing world.
New horizons beckoned and Horrell
moved eastward to New York — perhaps
"drawn by the magnetic force of the
fantastic metropolis," as the prologue
to Grand Central Station dramas has
it. In 1928 he joined a New York ad-
vertising agency as executive vice pres-
ident. Horrell took on radio production
in addition to his regular agency duties.
Soon radio was taking practically all of
his time.
It was while putting together big,
lush "name" shows that he first thought
of producing a dramatic radio program
that would emphasize story quality and
polished production rather than orches-
tral fanfare and high cost. A program
that, like a magazine, offered many
different stories. Long planning and
tireless experimentation resulted in the
successful launching of Grand Central
Station — "crossroads of a million pri-
vate lives — gigantic stage on which are
played a thousand dramas!"
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Automobile Day. She was one of
hundreds of persons — all in goggles,
dusters and high button shoes — who
were chugging along our sleek high-
ways in cars which were at least
25 years old. All were collectors, com-
ing from everywhere to exhibit their
Franklins, Autocars, Stutzes and Model
Ts. And the shiny new Fords and
Studebakers on the road could just
wait while their distinguished elders
made their stately, 20-mile-per-hour
way.
It was a pretty picture, like some-
thing out of a movie, but what would
the nice, trim school teacher do if a
magneto gave up or a carburetor
showed signs of senility?
"Very simple," snapped the Latin and
French instructor. "I roll up my sleeves
and take the motor apart. And I don't
mind getting grease under my finger-
nails."
THINKING for a fleeting moment of
Isome Latin teachers I had known —
grim gentlemen who thought that the
slickest thing on wheels still was Ben
Hur's chariot — and wondering how our
traveler ever got involved with a crank
case, I asked Miss Witman how she
had stumbled on her hobby.
One winter, she told me, she had
been ill. Too much concentrating on
teaching, the Doctor had said. "Get a
hobby, Miss Witman. Learn to relax."
Her father runs an auto painting and
repair shop. One day, on an errand
for him, she happened into the used car
lot of Lawrence Stilwell, a cheery,
friendly gentleman. While there, she
noticed a number of antique cars which,
it developed, were Stilwell's pet inter-
est. He was in the process of restoring
a beat-up old sedan dating back to 1910
and muttered something about slip-
covers.
"I'm a pretty good seamstress. I
make most of my own clothes. Maybe
I could do the slip-covers for you," Miss
Witman volunteered.
Stilwell was a little surprised that
the young woman would ever get into
the dusty antique, but he told her to go
ahead. She made the slip-covers — and
good ones. Then she made some more.
Then she started looking under the
hoods of the old cars. Then she reached
for a wrench. Then she was taking
motors apart. And then, with a smear
of grease on her cheek and a sparkle
in her brown eyes, she was filling that
doctor's prescription.
"I just seemed to fall right into it,"
she recalled. "I got to the point where
I was hanging around the shop during
every spare moment. It was a thrill
to watch an old car glow again, and
have a new life."
Stilwell owns the cars, but Miss Wit-
man shares the joy of the hobby with
him. When they need painting, Stil-
well sends them to her father's shop.
But that's all the profit there is from
the thousands of hours she gives to the
cars.
"After all," she said, "I make my
living at the school. This is just plain
fun — the thing that the doctor said was
so hard to find."
However well-restored it is, you can't
take a 25-year-old car out on the road
without running into experiences for
which no provisions are made in the
average teachers-training course. For
instance, there was the time they went
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to pick up one antiquated Model T. As
is usually the case, she and Stilwell
rode in a tow truck. After he bought
the car, Miss Witman drove the tow
truck and Stilwell rode in his new pos-
session— which still needed a motor job.
As she recalls:
"We were just using a rope for the
towing. On a hill, I swerved too sud-
denly, and Mr. Stilwell and the Model
T went into a telephone pole. The car's
fender was pretty badly mashed. Mr.
Stilwell was so mad at me for driving
badly that he told me to get right out
and fix the fender."
Sometimes, the young career woman's
two worlds collide — and with a bang.
For a while, she was an official of an
organization of business and profes-
sional women's clubs — an important
job. One day, a delegation of profes-
sional women came seeking her, and
were told that they would find her at
the garage. Immaculately dressed,
the ladies entered gingerly. From be-
neath the venerable floorboard of a
1906 Franklin they heard some ham-
mering.
"Young man," one called out, "could
you tell me if Miss Ruth Witman is ex-
pected here?"
The business and professional ladies
were most atwitter when Miss Witman
slid out from under the chassis, wiped
her hands and got down to business.
THEN, there was the time she was
driving a 1907 Autocar to Buffalo.
About 150 miles away from that city,
the Autocar became neither an auto
nor a car. It just wouldn't run, and
even the talented lady mechanic was
stymied. The problem, however, had
an obvious solution. She bided her
time until a huge car carrier — one of
those enormous trucks that transport a
number of new cars — rolled by. When
she saw one with some empty space,
she simply thumbed a ride into Buffalo
for herself and her Autocar.
"You see," she said seriously, "I had
never really known a truck driver be-
fore. As we rode along, we talked of
many things, and I learned about his
world. It's the same with all of the
people whom I meet on the road
through my hobby. I try to bring some
of that knowledge into my teaching.
I hope that it makes me a better
teacher."
I have a feeling that Miss Witman is
a pretty good teacher already. Some-
where between teaching her classes,
working on the cars and leading the
Sunday School group, she had time to
supervise her school newspaper. Speak-
ing of her would-be journalists, she
said:
"Some of my boys and girls want to
be newspapermen. They want to
travel around to strange places, to meet
all sorts of people. Sometimes they
can't express those yearnings very well,
but I know what they mean. You see,
I like the same things, and I get them
from my adventures with the cars."
I wondered if her facility with
French or Latin ever helped on the
old car hunts.
"Latin," she said with a smile, "is
even older than an old car, but French
comes in handy. For instance, one of
our relics is a French make, an Albion
Voisin. We always like to have all
parts on a car conform to the original,
and I've been writing letters all over
France trying to get tires that go with
that year and model. Maybe I'll have
to go to France to get them."
A schoolmarm tracking through
France hunting down a set of 30-year-
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old tires! Quite a picture, isn't it? But
then, Miss Witman has invaded many
a chateau to find the exact headlight
lens for a Stutz, and shuffled through
many a dumping ground to match up
the fenders on a Locomobile.
"People have strange reactions when
you come calling to ask about Grand-
pa's old car, which still sits in the
barn. They think they have a rare
old model, worth thousands of dollars.
And they act as though I'm a city
slicker, carrying out a swindle. Actual-
ly, it is practically valueless, until some
one spends much money to restore it."
Usually, on Welcome Travelers, we
ask our guests to try to analyze their
own experiences, or travel stories, and
share with our listeners the lessons
they have learned. I asked Miss Wit-
man what those old cars meant to her.
"Well," she asked, "have you ever
come into a home that hadn't been
lived in for a long time, and seen a doll
lying in the dust? Didn't you wonder
about the little girl, long ago, who
played with that doll? Didn't it seem
right to pick up that doll, and dust it off,
the way the little girl would have done?
In a funny sort of way, it's the same
with old cars."
I saw what she meant. Each of the
antique autos had a story of its own.
The proud family which first drove it,
on bright Sundays, over the dirt roads.
The kids with their special seats in
back. Junior borrowing it on Saturday
night to spark the girl next door. Dig
down deep under the seat and maybe
you'll still find a grain of rice from
their wedding. And later, times are
bad, and the car is sold. Then, for
someone else, the story begins all over,
and another family pattern is acted out
in the same car.
Yes, it was quite a thought. And I
could understand how Miss Witman felt
when she helped Stilwell take in an
old junk, then repair and polish and
rub until, days later, there emerged
again The Car. Though its past owners
might spread around the globe, it was
nice to think that the car which had
been so important to them at one time
was again getting good treatment, and
was again rolling along the road.
The next morning, on my way to the
Welcome Travelers broadcast, I saw
Miss Ruth Witman, in her 1914 Over-
land, riding toward the Milwaukee
highway on Chicago's La Salle St. She
had on her goggles and her duster, and
the car was chugging along at about
eighteen miles an hour.
"Watch out, lady," the driver of a
sleek new model called out. "You
might get a flat tire."
Miss Witman smiled sweetly at the
heckler and never, it seemed to me, had
I seen a damsel less likely to find her-
self in distress.
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TRUE
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the magazine of FACT not fiction,
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heart-throbbing True Experiences.
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Wife Slays Diabolical Husband
"My 23 Years of Terror"
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Victory Over Self-Destruction
"I Was Insane"
by Jeanette Larson
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TRUE EXPERIENCES
ON SALE NOW
Dagwood's
House of Happiness
(Continued from page 43)
estate broker told me the place was the
old Pickering estate and he read off
some figures: twenty-two rooms, eight
baths. (Oh, boy!) 4V2 acres. (Goodie!)
Tennis court, sunken gardens, but no
pool. (So, okay, the kids are too young
yet.) And here was an unusual item: a
fifty thousand dollar pipe organ. The
original owner had fancied organ music
and had built the whole house around
the thing. (I didn't have any particular
use for a pipe organ, but a man can
take up a new hobby can't he?)
I asked if the house was for sale. The
broker didn't know, but he assumed so
— nobody had lived in the place for
more than ten years. He would see.
I went home to report progress and
Pat thought I was out of my silly mind.
But when the real estate fellow called
back to say that the house was available
and told me the price, I had my inning.
For all that housing it was ridicu-
lously cheap. The pipe organ alone was
worth that much. They were giving it
away.
"Ummmh," said Pat. Prove it, that
meant.
WE WENT to look, and I admit the
whole thing was pretty overwhelm-
ing. Those vast rooms — empty — echoed
like a cave. Crystal chandeliers, Byzan-
tine carved walls and ceilings, not real-
ly for Dagwood.
And the organ. It was a monster, and
sure enough the music came back at
you from concealed pipes all over the
house.
"I love it," I yelled. I had just found
the xylophone pedal.
"If we sold it," Pat calmed me down,
"we might just be able to afford the
house."
Gosh, the organ was half the fun.
But Pat was right. Then I had a prac-
tical question.
"Who, these days, is in the market for
a fifty thousand dollar pipe organ?"
Pat found somebody. She would!
She got in touch with the man who in-
stalled the instrument in the first place,
and he said sure it was the best organ
west of the Rockies and he knew a
church which would love to have it.
So we took the plunge. Plunked down
a down payment, went into escrow and
began to have nightmares about fur-
nishing the place.
Before we moved in, the pipe organ
was carted away. It was a very sad
day for me. The thing had more voices
than Edgar Bergen; bass drums, xylo-
phone, something as sweet as Evelyn's
magic violin. It would have been fun
to keep it. But it had to go — five van
loads of it had to go.
We hired a crew of a dozen strong
guys to clean out ten years accumula-
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then we marched in — into the vast and
empty spaces. The stuff from our other
house just about furnished the — pardon
me — master suite, and another second
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baths which we turned over to the kids
and their nurse.
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rest — brother, we're taking our time.
We have carpets now — several thousand
yards I guess — and already christened
with spilled orange juice and careless
bull dog. (Hedy, our white Peke, re-
fuses to share the blame.) We have
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some drapes and a few big hunks of
stuff to sit on, but the echo is still pretty
frightening.
At first we tried to live all over the
house, but after a week we were all-
exhausted and retired to our various
little homes within the home to rest.
After we had shaken down in the
house for a few weeks, Pat and I began
itching for a party. I think we wanted
to see the astonishment on our friends'
faces as much as anything else.
We set a date and invited everybody
in town to our housewarming.
EVERYTHING happened.
The first guest who arrived drove
over one of the lawn sprinklers, crack-
ing off the head of it, and a fifty-foot
geyser shot into the air.
I looked all over the house and
couldn't find the water shut-off. This
took about an hour, by which time most
everybody had come — so drenched
when they reached shelter that they
were too concerned with messed hair-
dos and unpressed pants to be amazed
at our magnificence.
Pat was trying to be host and hostess,
water mopper upper and long distance
runner all at once, and she was getting
a little tired. I called the Santa Monica
Water Company. They said the house
was in West Los Angeles. I called the
West Los Angeles Water Company.
They said the house was in Santa
Monica. They were no fools. I called
the plumber.
By the time I got back to the party,
the geyser had really got in its licks.
The roof was leaking. Right through our
splendiferous crystal chandelier.
Well, we never did have the barbe-
cue. By the time the plumber had found
the shut-off and turned off the show
the lawn was soaked. It was too late,
and too dark, and too cold.
So we made up a sort of bucket
brigade — the folks were feeling a little
more cheerful by this time — and par-
layed the food all the way back to the
kitchen, cooked it, toted it back to the
living room, and by golly, we ate it!
Everybody warned me that night
that I should keep our haunted house a
secret. If the "Blondie" customers
found out that Dagwood was living in a
sort of combination Manderley and
Grand Hotel, they would be up in arms.
That made me sore.
I reminded them that though I've
been playing Dagwood since "Harold
Teen" — that's eleven long and lovely
years — there's more.
Last year I started branching out,
and produced a film called "Sixteen
Fathoms Deep." The reviewers have
been pretty friendly, especially one who
was in the Thalians with me in high
school. It had better be good, as my
cynical friends reminded me at the
house warming, with "Arthur Lake
Productions" right out in front like that.
Maybe I should have called my com-
pany Warner Brothers. Because in
our coming production the Lakes are
really standing up and waiting to be
shot at. There is a fine comedy part
in it which fits nobody but Pat — so she's
going to play it. And Shorty, that's our
son Arthur Patrick, has a nice fat part,
too. Marian Rose is busily taking ballet
lessons, so I suppose I will have to put
in a part for a small, round dancer, too.
We will either be able to afford our
haunted house after that,, or we will
build barricades around it and retire
behind the walls until the whole thing
has blown over.
It'll be a fine house one of these days,
after we get the hang of it.
44 1 LOVED
HUSBAND
99
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The Light in the
Window
(Continued from page 65)
do you mean?"
He shook his head, sorry he'd gone
this far. "I can't tell you. I'd never
have mentioned it except that — "
"Except you wanted to straighten me
out?"
"I suppose so. And I'm the last per-
son to do that — "
He saw the concern in her eyes, and
he knew that he'd won. She would stay
now — for the very reason he didn't want.
Because she was worried about him.
"What happens to me isn't impor-
tant," he said. "But you're young.
You've so much to live for — "
"That's what you think!" But she
sounded shaken, and he pressed his ad-
vantage.
"And, I'm being selfish, Charlotte, in
urging you not to leave. I have en-
joyed your company — "
"Oh, Ray — " She melted suddenly;
her face went slack like a troubled and
bewildered child's. "I don't know what
to do. I'm so mixed up. I — I've got
to be alone for a while — take a walk — "
HE WENT back to his room. From his
window he saw her hurry down the
street; turn into the Church of the
Good Samaritan — the first time she'd
been in a church, he wagered, in a good
many years. That church! And the
parsonage, and the light that burned
eternally in the study window — Dr.
Matthews' friendship lamp! Dr.
Matthews, Charlotte — both of them
poking their noses into his business —
and he'd let them; he'd given them both
reason to. He was closing the trap
around himself.
After that, there was no getting out.
Charlotte's concern was always with
him, like a hand on his pulse. On a hot
midsummer evening, when he was sit-
ting with her and Eddie Bingham, the
ever-hopeful little gambler, in the dusk
of the porch, she said casually, "I won-
der when Mrs. Olson's coming home?
Something funny happened today. A
cop came around, asking questions — "
"A cop!" Eddie exclaimed.
"You in trouble, Eddie?" asked Char-
lotte. "Yes, a cop. Plain clothes, but I
know one when I see one. He was
looking for a guy and I told him he had
the wrong address. He said no, he was
sure he hadn't, and then he buzzed
over to see Dr. Matthews."
"Who was he looking for, Charlotte?"
Ray asked.
"Guy named Roger Barton. But no-
body by that name's been here that I
know of. I thought maybe Mrs. Olson
might know — "
Ray hadn't moved. His tone had
been as casual as hers. But she was
watching him, and now she said, "It's
nothing to you, Eddie, and Ray and
I aren't going in with you on that third
race tomorrow no matter how long
you argue. Why don't you see if you
can find a couple of live ones inside?"
Eddie rose resignedly. "Always try-
ing to get rid of me. Okay, I know
when I'm not wanted."
There was a silence. Then Charlotte
remarked, "You look kind of funny, Ray."
"I don't feel funny." He hesitated.
What was the use? He might have ex-
pected something like this . . . and be-
sides, she'd know sooner or later, any-
way.
"I may as well tell you," he said. "I
knew they wouldn't let me alone — they
caiit
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never do. That man was a parole offi-
cer."
"A — you mean you — "
"Brandon — Barton," said Ray harshly.
"Same difference. So now you know
who's been giving you advice, trying
to tell you how to live your life. /
jail-bird, an ex-convict — "
He got up and started inside. She
was beside him, holding to his arm.
"Ray, wait! Don't go! I don't car-3
what you've been — I don't even want
to know. I think you're a swell guy.
I — well, there's no use trying to say it."
She meant it, every word of it. It
was in her eyes, her voice. She was
the kind of woman who, if she cared
about you, was with you all the way,
through anything, no matter what you
said or did. He felt a softening within
him, a kind of tearing. If another
woman had been like her. . . . Then
her voice raced on, desperately anxious.
"This thing you're waiting for, plan-
ning on — it's got something to do with
it, your being in jail, hasn't it? Ray,
I'm so worried — "
"You shouldn't be." He was cruel be-
cause he had to be. "It's not your busi-
ness; it's mine, mine alone, like my
life. And — don't try to get mixed up
in it."
SHE didn't mention the subject again.
She was casually friendly, as before,
even more diffident about approaching
him than ever. But Ray worried. A
parole officer now, and Charlotte, and
Dr. Matthews, with that light that Ray
had to look at every time he glanced
out his window. How many more people
were going to get mixed up in this?
He fretted about it for days. When
nothing happened, he followed the
thin, persistent beam of the guiding
light down Newman Avenue to the
study of Dr. Matthews.
A pretty, fresh-faced girl let him in.
"Dr. Matthews is out," she said. "But
I expect him back almost any time.
I'm Pamela Hale, Dr. Matthews' niece.
And if you'd like to wait — "
She was leading him toward the
study. "There's someone else waiting,"
she said, opening the door. "This is
Roger Collins, Mr. Brandon."
Ray gripped his hat until his knuckles
were white. Hang onto yourself, Bran-
don. . . . Aloud he said, "How do you
do," as if to a stranger.
Pamela Hale left them, closing the
door after her. The boy smiled at him,
very friendly, a little bit shy. "How
do you do, sir? It's — it's nice here in
this study, isn't it? There's something
about the place, that lamp — "
"The Friendship Lamp," said Ray
Brandon, with no irony at all.
The boy nodded. "I've known Dr.
Matthews only a few weeks, but I keep
coming around to talk with him. To-
night, though," he added hurriedly, "I
won't be long. I can find out what I
want to know in just a minute or two."
"So can I," said Ray dryly. "You —
you don't live around here?"
"No — in Forest Hills. But I work
in this neighborhood — I'm one of the
counselors at the Young People's Club.
That is, right now I am."
"Why do you say that?"
"It's kind of mixed up," the boy said.
"My mother doesn't think I should
spend so much time here in the Flats — "
I should think not, Ray thought, not
when I'm living here. "That's under-
standable," he said aloud. "There must
be a Young People's Club in your own
neighborhood — "
"Oh, yes — but not like this. Here
you really feel you're doing something
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Name Age .
City State
These kids really need a club. Be-
sides, it ties in with the work I want
to do.
"I want to be a lawyer — I'm starting
U.C.L.A. in the fall, I hope. My mother
doesn't like the idea, but Dad wants
me to. That is, he's my step-father,
but we always see eye-to-eye. He went
to U.S.C., but he understood when I
told him that I wanted to go to U.C.L.A.
because my real dad went there. You
see, my real dad died long ago, when
I was just a baby. But I've got a
kind of picture of him from things my
mother told me. A picture of a pretty
swell guy. That's why I don't under-
stand my mother. I thought she'd want
me to go to school where my real dad
went. But she's been different lately.
Doesn't want me to work here in the
Flats — that's where Dr. Matthews is
tonight, with Mother and Dad. He's
trying to get them to let me go on
working here — "
Ray didn't think he could take any
more. Fortunately, he didn't have to.
The boy stopped, abashed. "Gosh, I
don't know why I'm talking to you like
this. It must be this place — it just sort
of brings things out of you, makes you
talk. And I don't think I'd better wait
any longer. Will you tell Dr. Matthews
I'll talk with him tomorrow?"
Ray let him go — just in time, he
realized afterward. They shook hands;
the boy went out. A few moments later
there was the sound of a car stopping,
the sound of voices. Too late he recog-
nized the woman's voice. They were
inside, and Julie was staring at him
as if he were a traitor.
"Mr. Brandon," said Dr. Matthews,
"this is Mr. Collins. Where is Roger?"
"He left a few minutes ago," Ray an-
swered, looking at Julie.
"And the two of you — " she burst
out. "I knew this would happen.
Frank—"
"WO NEED to get upset, Julie," said
li Frank. His voice was deep and quiet.
Ray liked him — so much that he felt
a curious peace about his son, so much
that he could feel no jealousy that this
man had been and would go on being
father to his, Ray's, son.
"That's right, Julie," he agreed. "We
met as strangers. Two strangers
who happened to be waiting for Dr.
Matthews. Nothing more."
"Why don't we sit down and talk
this over?" Dr. Matthews suggested.
"Mr. Collins feels as I do — -that there's
no reason why young Roger can't be
told the whole truth."
"There's every reason!" Julie cried
passionately. And Ray nodded som-
berly. "He stopped being my son fifteen
years ago when I went to prison—"
"For a crime you didn't commit,"
Dr. Matthews put in quickly. "That's
true, isn't it, Brandon?"
"What's the difference?" Ray asked.
"Evidently Julie — "
She was going to pieces before his
eyes. She was shaking, and her voice
skidded perilously. "Of course I be-
lieved you were innocent! You told me
to forget you; you told me to tell Roger
you were dead. What I've done, I've
done for his sake — "
Frank took her arm, nodded at Ray
over her head, gently led her out. Ray
and Dr. Matthews were left alone. The
older man moved to his desk, sat down,
motioned Ray to sit down. "Somehow,
Brandon," he said, "I've a feeling all
this is going to work out — "
"I don't want it to," said Ray rudely.
"I want to know just one thing — what
the parole officer wanted the other day."
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106
"I think you know that," said Dr.
Matthews slowly. "He wanted to know
about your future plans . . . and .if they
included a man named McClain. Mar-
tin McClain. He told me that at your
trial fifteen years ago you kept in-
sisting— "
"I told the court the truth," said Ray
bluntly. "It was a deliberate frame-up
by McClain. He'd pushed me ahead in
the office, worked me into a position
where I could be accused of doctoring
the books . . . covering up for his crime."
"I know about that," said Dr.
Matthews. "And I know, as you prob-
ably do yourself, that McClain is ex-
pected back in the city before too long.
Then what?"
Ray didn't answer. Dr. Matthews
spoke softly. "The look in your eyes —
I've seen it before. Murder. But this
time I don't believe it. I don't believe
you can do it, not after sitting here
talking with your son — "
"Julie's son — "
DR. MATTHEWS ignored him. "I didn't
believe it before. That's why I told
the parole officer that you had a job
ahead of you, one with a future in a
law office. And you have, if you want
it. I've been in touch with a law firm.
I didn't go out of my way, you under-
stand, but there's an opening. I told
them a little about you, and they seem
to feel that they can work out some
kind of an arrangement. Would you like
me to make an appointment for you?"
"No thanks."
"But you can't be satisfied with your
present job — "
"It serves my purpose." Ray rose.
"Thanks," he said again, ironically.
"But I'm just not interested in anything
you have to offer."
They were closing in on him. Dr.
Matthews with his job, Charlotte with
her devotion, even Julie, who was fight-
ing strangely to reach him even as she
fought — needlessly — to keep him apart
from their son.
Julie came to see him the next day.
She was in his room when he came
home. Charlotte was there, too, taking
down Mrs. Olson's limp, gray curtains
and hanging up a pair she'd started to
make days ago, before he had fright-
ened her off. Before Julie, she looked
stubborn and scared.
"We've already met," she told Ray
when he started to introduce them.
"And I — uh — I guess I'd better be
going — "
"Don't rush off on my account."
Julie's voice was coolly sweet. Char-
lotte walked out without another word,
and Julie turned to Ray. "Roger —
Ray — I couldn't help being a little sur-
prised to find a woman like that in your
room — "
"What do you mean — a woman like
that?" His voice was dangerously quiet.
But Julie didn't back down.
"I gathered you've been seeing a
good deal of her. How can you waste
your time on anyone so — so cheap?
Oh, I suppose she's attractive in a way,
but—"
"Cheap? What gives you the right
to say that — to make any kind of com-
ment?"
"Well, it's perfectly obvious," said
Julie. "She — "
"What do you know about her?"
he interrupted savagely. "You don't
know anything about her kind of de-
cency, her honesty. What did you come
here for, anyway?"
"Because I'm worried," Julie flung at
him. "You talked so strangely last night
— trying to blame me for doing what
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you yourself told me to do. I know
you'll stop at nothing to even the score
with Martin McClain. And I can't help
but feel that you're trying to shift the
moral responsibility for that upon me,
too."
"I don't know why," he said stiffly.
"I accept full moral responsibility, Julie,
for anything that may happen. So
you can just forget it."
"But I can't!" She came close to him,
her eyes wide, pleading. "What you do
with your life is very important to me."
A convulsive movement broke the
smooth, white line of her throat.
Suddenly he was sorry for her. "There
can't be any beginning over for me,
Julie. Only an end. We'd best say
goodbye, right now."
"Roger — " But his look stopped her.
She turned and walked out.
HE waited until her footsteps receded
down the stairs. Then, in feverish
haste, he reached into the back of
a bureau drawer, drew forth a precious,
heavy object. They were closing in on
him, and McClain was coming back . . .
and he was working against time. He
didn't hear Charlotte's knock until she
was in the room.
"Ray — " And then she saw the gun.
Quickly she swallowed her shock.
"When you play like that," she said,
"you ought to have sense enough to
lock your door. Are you nuts? Do
you know what they can do to you if
they find you with a gun?"
"I know it's time for us to call things
quits," he said levelly. "You know what
I am, and I'm only sorry I've told you
as much as I have. Now wake up and
let me alone — "
She sat down on the bed close to him,
her eyes holding his. "Me wake up,
Ray Brandon? Forget I ever knew you?
It's too late for that! I wanted to clear
out of here on account of Larry Law-
rence, but oh, no, you wouldn't let me
go! What a song and dance you gave
me! Running away from myself, you
said. Well, what do you think you're
doing?"
"I deserve that," he admitted. "I had
no right to meddle — Charlotte!"
She'd snatched the gun suddenly,
butt toward her, so that he cried out in
fear. And then she was running with
it, out of the room, down the hall. He
heard her door slam and lock.
He ran after her, pounded on it.
"Charlotte — " A drawer opened and
shut inside the room; then there were
other sounds, wretched, strangled. She
was crying.
"Charlotte—"
She opened the door. "You can
come in now," she said. "But you can't
have that gun. I know what you plan
to do with it, and I won't let you. I —
I'll use it on myself, first."
He believed her. She stood looking
up at him, her face raining tears as
frankly as a child's, and she meant
every word she said. He couldn't help
himself. He put his arms around her.
"I mean it," she said after a while,
her lips close to his ear. "Not what I
said exactly — but it would be worse
than that for me. If you don't stop
this — this way you're going, Ray, I'm
going straight to that parole officer, and
straight to Dr. Matthews . . . and
they'll see that you stop. I love you.
I didn't mean to tell you, and I know
you don't want to hear it — "
His arms tightened around her.
"Charlotte, you've meant — you mean
so much to me — "
He pressed her face against his cheek,
so that she couldn't see his eyes, so
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that his thoughts could run free. This
was what he got for talking too much to
too many people, for giving in to life.
And now he'd have to destroy the one
thing he'd had all along, in spite of
everything — his self-respect.
"Charlotte," he said, "would you be-
lieve me if I told you I'd changed
my mind — about everything? Would
you believe me if I told you I wanted
to put the past away, finally, and start
over? Would you help me?"
She pulled her head free and looked
up at him, long and steadily. And he
knew that she'd believe him — because
she wanted to so desperately. "Yes,
Ray. Yes — to everything."
"Dr. Matthews offered me a job last
night," he went on. "In a law office —
something I'll like, something I've al-
ways been interested in. I'd like to take
that job, Charlotte. I'd like to try — "
"You mean it? You're not just — "
"I mean it." And he made himself
smile to match her smile.
"Then — " She moved quickly, un-
locked the bureau drawer, took some-
thing out. He'd forgotten about the gun.
There were other guns; it had lost
importance compared to the other thing
she had threatened to do. "Here's your
property, Ray. And I apologize — "
She held the gun out to him, an act
of trust, of faith. . . .
Bright morning sunlight warmed the
inscription on an office door: Fleming,
Drake and Henehan, Attorneys-at-law.
Ray Brandon shut the door behind him,
walked over the thick carpet to the
receptionist's desk. "My name is Ray
Brandon. I believe Dr. Matthews made
an appointment for me — "
"Oh, yes, Mr. Brandon. Mr. Fleming
is busy at the moment, but he should
be free soon. Will you sit down? There
are some magazines on the table — "
On top of the magazines was the
morning newspaper. "Prominent indus-
trialist, Martin McClain and daughter
Susan . . . arrived today . . ."
Ray Brandon went to the door. "Tell
Mr. Fleming that I suddenly remem-
bered I had — another appointment."
Several nights later, Ray Brandon
knocked on the door of a closed room.
"All set?" Ray asked, stepping inside.
"I think so," the man answered. "But
you sure gave me a tough one. Mc-
Clain's got his own bodyguards — thugs.
Then there are private dicks all around
the place. Who would be hiring them?"
DAY thought he knew, and he tipped
li his hat, mentally, to Dr. Matthews for
hoping to the last. He had private de-
tectives out for him now, and if they
failed — he would turn to the police.
"Never mind who," he said impa-
tiently. "Did you get the layout? I got
everything, even drew you a diagram
too. This won't be easy, but you can
do it. The first part's duck soup. You
could do it blindfolded — "
Ray Brandon walked down an alley
behind the Andover Arms Hotel, turned
into a door marked Service Entrance.
He kept going to the end of the passage,
went through an iron door, up a flight
of stairs, through another heavy door.
He was inside, not the Andover Arms,
but the Athletic Club which adjoined
it. Rapidly, he walked down the car-
peted corridor, found a door marked
"Fire Escape." He went through the
door, climbed two flights up the fire
escape. Now the ticklish part — a six-
foot jump to the fire escape of the
Andover Arms . . . He made it. He
felt as if he could have leaped twice
that distance through space. Up another
flight — fire escape to balcony — another
Ming shoulder!.
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six feet, with the pavement of the court
floors below. ... A French door off
the balcony . . . McClain's apartment.
Then he had to wait. McClain was in
bed — and his daughter was standing
beside him, talking forever. She left
the room, returned, left again. Ray
turned the handle of the French door —
and froze. Someone else in the room
now — looked like one of the body-
guards. He was gone; the light was out.
This time Ray waited until he was
sure. Then he stepped into the breath-
ing dark, snapped the light switch.
"Who — " The man in the bed sat up.
"Barton!"
"That's right. You do remember me,
don't you, McClain?" His voice was
easy, but uncontrollable joy exploded
inside him. This was the end of fifteen
years of dreaming, planning — and it
was worth it, oh, a thousand times over!
McClain's face! McClain's craven face.
"Barton, put down that gun." He
tried to bluff. "You'll never get away
with this — "
"There's a silencer on the gun — and
don't try to reach for the phone! I
got in here, and I'll get out again — "
"It'll be just a question of time." Mc-
Clain spoke as if every word were a
breath, as indeed it was. "They'll get
you—"
"Why should I care?" Ray exulted.
"I don't care to live — thanks to you.
All I want is the satisfaction of know-
ing I've sent you on ahead of me."
McClain began to shake. His face
puckered like a woman's. "Let me
talk! Let me explain!" he screamed, and
quickly lowered his voice. "I was in
a tight spot. I had my back against the
wall. I never thought they'd convict
you—"
"No? But you fixed it so that they
could. You testified against me at the
trial."
McCLAIN was swaying, his hands
. clasped as if in prayer. "If you only
knew how I've regretted that! I've
had to live with myself all these years,
Barton. If I had it to do over — I'll do
anything — anything to make it up to
you—"
"Fine," said Ray. "Bring back my
wife, my son who thinks I'm dead.
Oh, no, you can't do that. But — would
you go to prison?"
He watched, enjoying himself hugely.
This ridiculous figure in pajamas, with
its ridiculous face working like a baby's
. . . this was what he'd wanted, this was
what he'd worked for, risked every-
thing for.
"Prison?" Voice falsetto. "I don't
know what you mean — Yes, yes, I will,
Barton! Anything — Only don't shoot!
For God's sake, don't shoot . . ."
Somehow, Ray Brandon got back
down the fire escape. Somehow — he
would never know just how — he found
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Of course, Dr. Matthews would say
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Coast to Coast in Television
(Continued from page 47)
wouldn't make suds, for instance, and
foamed a couple of bottles of beer into
the water, is a hero of the man -versus
video struggle.
* * »
With most people eager for the big
stars of radio and movies to move into
television, everyone thinks of Jack
Benny's program as a natural; however
Jack thinks he would have to change
his format completely to make the
switch. As he explains it, "To properly
portray some of our scenes would cost a
fortune for sets and photography and
yet wouldn't be as funny as the same
scene done on the radio.
"For example, we use a long series of
footsteps and sound effects to portray
me walking down into my vault and the
process of going through squeaky doors,
untying endless chains and finally
opening the vault to the sound of screwy
burglar alarms. Each listener has his
own conception of that scene, and each
time it seems to get a laugh. Now this
same routine on television, produced
with costly sets, cobwebs and costumes,
might be fairly funny but I'm sure it
wouldn't be quite as hilarious as the
illusion built up by sound effects."
* * *
Allen Funt, who has been conducting
Candid Microphone over ABC for well
over a year, is doing just as hilarious a
job with his video program based on the
same idea. Now, of course, instead of
just the hidden mike, there is a hidden
candid camera as well. All those who
ever wondered what Funt's victims look
like, will enjoy this show — over ABC-
TV.
* * *
Now you can get a B.S. in television!
This semester the American University
in Washington, D. C, is offering courses
leading to a Bachelor of Science degree
with a major in radio and television.
This is the first accredited university to
recognize the importance of TV and the
contribution it will make to our cul-
ture. Soon all educational institutions
should recognize their obligation to
train and instruct for a medium that
will have such a tremendous impact on
our living.
* * *
People love to moan about the things
that interfere with their tele reception
— it has replaced bridge scores, opera-
tions, and the high cost of living as a
favorite gripe. Tracing down the source
of a reception disturbance makes a de-
tective out of the video service man —
it can turn out that the location of your
antenna, the ham radio operator next
door, or a dozen other things are keep-
ing you from getting the clear picture
you want on your set. The most
troublesome factor found yet is the
diathermy machine. That little device,
while it's fixing up someone's rheu-
matic knee, can konk out television
sets for blocks around. Luckily most
such machines are turned off at night —
the big television time.
Because of television, we may all find
ourselves going about in much darker
make-up than we ever dreamed of
using. Television calls for its own spe-
cial make-up, and though in the early
days experiments were made with
weird make-ups — green and purple lip-
sticks and the like — now deep tan foun-
dation, orange-red lipstick and brown
accents on the eyelids are found to be
the most effective. Since no one knows
nowadays when a television camera is
going to catch up with him, experts are
predicting that we'll all take to mild
versions of the video make-up.
* * *
Tommy Dorsey, who has been disc
jockeying, is reforming his band to go
into tele. During recent months Tommy
has been doing considerable research
into the possible uses of name bands by
video. He feels that several years ago,
when Hollywood was making extensive
use of the marquee power of name
maestros, both the latter and film pro-
ducers failed in getting the most out of
what they had.
* * *
The American Cancer Society is loud
in its praise of television. They found
the medium extremely effective in their
campaigning, so they are going ahead
with a full-scale program of activity.
They find that video is wonderful when
it comes to stimulating contributions.
They plan to put cancer education be-
fore the cameras as well as entertain-
ment and direct appeals for funds.
* * *
Gladys Swarthout, glamorous opera
star, and her husband, Frank Chapman,
concert baritone, have formed a tele-
vision film company, with a studio in
Connecticut, to make 15-minute films.
The series will be called "In the Music
Room."
* * *
The nation's football scouts are grate-
ful to television. This fall finds them
doing their spying for new athletic
talent in front of a TV set in a nice
warm room — instead of being con-
stantly frozen in the stands.
Sultry Lena Home was a guest on Ed
Sullivan's Toast of The Town, CBS-TV.
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FAMOUS FLOWER-STYLIST
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■
• Into a ballroom ablaze
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nods with satisfaction. Miss
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RADIO
MIRROR
AJVJD TELEVISION
DECEMBER
25*
RTIA FACES LIFE-
|4 complete novelette
i pictures - The story of
DAVID HARUM
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{Advertisement)
DECEMBER, 1948
VOL. 31, NO. 1
HWIO
MIRROR
KEYSTONE EDITION
AJVD TELEVISION
Radio Mirror Awards 26
PEOPLE ON THE A4R
Bell
Ralph
My Boss, Drew Pearson by David Karr
Come and Visit Ed Gardner by Pauline Swanson
Your Ticket To The Breakfast Club
It's Not The Money That Counts by Martin Cohen
Queen For A Day — in Pictures
R. F. D. America by Mac McKerrow
"It Never Hurts To Try !" by Mrs. Bessie M. Lawrence
Life With Sister by Margaret and Barbara Whiting
Through The Years With David Harum — in Pictures.
18
28
30
34
36
38
40
42
52
54
EB and the Boys by Frances Bergen 58
~.<'«E * :W\ii.,;
Facing The Music by Duke Ellington 10
Look At The Records by Joe Martin 12
Collector's Corner by Denny Dennis 13
What's New From Coast to Coast by Dale Banks 14
Dear Editor 25
Inside Radio 66
It's Here 69
Radio Mirror Quiz 94
Information Booth 98
The Best View by Mary Jane Fulton 6
Life Can Be Beautiful 22
Between The Bookends by Ted Malone 44
Traveler of The Month by Tommy Bartlett 46
Come, Ye Thankful by Kate Smith 60
A Plan In Time by Terry Burton 70
Coast to Coast in Television 48
Mary Kay and Johnny 50
Toast of The Town 51
WMGM: Birth of a Station 4
WFIL: Shorts on Sports 8
KDKA: Radio and the Three Rs 16
WBEN: For Women Only . 21
Another Woman — A Portia Faces Life Novelette by Helen Christy Harris 62
ON THE COVER: Edgar Bergen, Charlie McCarthy, and Mortimer Snerd
Editorial Director
FRED B. SAMMIS
Editor
DORIS McFERRAN
Art Director
JACK ZASORIN
Managing Editor
EVELYN E. FIORE
Associate Art Director
FRANCES MALI
Television
JOAN MURPHY LLOVD
Research
TERU GOTO
Chicago Office: Editor, HEEEN CAMBRIA BOESTAD
Hollywood Office: Editor, ANN DAGGETT Managing Editor, FRANCES MORRIN
Staii Photographers, HYMIE FINK, STEREING SMITH Assistant, BETTY JO RICE
RADIO AND TELEVISION MIRROR, published monthly oy MACFADDEN PUBLICATIONS, INC., New York, N. Y.
General Business, Editorial and Advertising Offices, 205 East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Hollywood— Beverly
Hills Office: 321 S. Beverly Drive, Beverly Hills, California. O. J. Elder, President; Harold Wise, Executive Vice
President: Herbert Drake, vice President; Joseph Schultz, Vice President: S. O. Shapiro, Vice President; Ernest V.
Heyn, Vice President; Meyer Dworkin, Secretary and Treasurer; Edward F. Lethen, Advertising; Director. Chicago
Office: 224 North La Salle St., Leslie R. Gage, Mgr. San Francisco Office: 1613 Russ Building, Joseph M. Dooher,
Met. Los Angeles Office: Suite 908, 649 South Olive St., George Wealherby, Mgr. Charles O. Terwllliger, Jr., East-
ern Advertising Manager, 205 East 42nd St., New York 17, N. Y. Reentered as Second Class matter March 1, 1948.
at the Post Office at New York, N. Y. under the Act of March 3, 1879. Subscription rates: U. S. and Possessions,
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addresB. Contributors are especially advised to be sure to retain copies of their contributions; otherwise they
are taking unnecessary risk. The contents of this magazine may not be reprinted either wholly or in part without
permission.
(Member of Macfadden Women's Group)
Copyright, 1948, by Macfadden Publications, Inc. All rights reserved under International Copyright Convention. All
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Printed in U. S. A. bv Art Color Printing Co.. Dunellen. N. J.
Coming Next Month
Jimmy Durante gets talked
about by his old friend
Eddie Jackson, in January
NEVER before told — because Jimmy
wouldn't tell them — are the stories
about Jimmy that Eddie Jackson writes
for January Radio Mirror. What, for
instance, is "Duranteville"? And why
was Jimmy the man of the hour when
he toured Italy? Maybe you can't
answer those questions now, but wait
till you've read "A Heart as Big as his
Nose;"
* * *
One of the most appealing family
portraits — full color, of course — that
we've _ever seen comes with Harriet
Milliard Nelson's story about herself,
Ozzie and their two sons. "Bringing Up
the Boys," Harriet calls it . . . but Ozzie
thinks there ought to be a question
mark after that title.
* * *
You know Connie Wakefield as
Carolyn Kramer's best friend, in the
daily drama Right to Happiness. What
you may not have known about Connie
is that she has lived a life brim-full of
drama, of heartbreak, of courageous
self-sufficiency ... a life so exciting
that we've made it into a four-page
picture-story for January. Connie's ex-
periences have never been dramatized
on the air, so her story will be com-
pletely new to you — and completely
inspiring!
* * *
Radio Mirror takes you, in January,
to the Fred Waring Show — two pages
of color as brilliant as though you were
really watching it from a studio seat.
It's one of radio's hardest-to-get-
tickets-to programs, but you'll be there.
* * *
They grow some cute kids out in Hol-
lywood. Well, for that matter, they
grow cute ones all over the world, but
there's one we specially want you to
meet, and he is from Hollywood. He's
Ridge Howard; the fact that he's movie-
and-radio star Dorothy Lamour's son
gave us a good excuse to get all the pic-
tures of Ridge we had space for. Of
course, Dot is beautiful . . . but wait till
you see Ridge!
* • *
Besides the other features, there's a
special surprise: a story in which Ralph
Edwards tells the truth — or so he says —
about Truth or Consequences. But you
know how fast that man talks. And
when you've read all these, you'll still
have the Wendy Warren Reader Bonus,
the story about M. C. Todd Russell, and
all the rest to look forward to — in
January Radio Mirror, on sale Decem-
ber 10th.
Farley Grangers idea of a
V
famd/i
FARLEY GRANGER, ONE OF THE STARS IN SAMUEL GOLDWYN'S
"ENCHANTMENT", AND CATHY O'DONNELL
in Farley Grangers own words :
"When I first saw Cathy O'Donnell, I said,
'She's charming-in every way!' And I noticed her
hands particularly-they're so soft, so feminine.
Now Cathy tells me she uses Jergens
Lotion always." Hollywood Stars use Jergens
7 to 1 over any other hand care!
The Stars know. Their favorite hand care — Jergens Lotion
—is more effective today in two ways: It makes your hands
feel softer than ever, deliciously smoother. It protects
even longer against roughness. Today's Jergens Lotion
contains two ingredients many doctors use for
skin care. Still only lOtf to $1.00 (plus tax).
No oiliness; no sticky feeling. If you care
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Used by More Women than
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For the Softest, Adorable Hands, use Jergens Lotion
His Idea?
This picture gives you an idea of WMGM's glamorous new studios with their walls and ceilings of polycylindrical,
flat and diamond-shaped forms of transite, wood and plaster. At the mike are Morey Amsterdam (1) and Al Kelly.
Following a documen-
tary cavalcade of
WHN's history by Ted
Husing (left), Mayor
O'Dwyer (right), offi-
cially changed the
station's call letters.
FOR comedian Morey Amster-
dam, there is no more going to
work in slacks and a sweater.
Since September 15, high hat,
white tie and sneakers have been
de rigeur. On that date, you see,
Morey's boss changed his location
— Broadway to Fifth Avenue, and
his name— WHN to WMGM.
WMGM, which started out as a
250 -watt -50-hour- weekly, today
has a 50,000-watt transmitter and
a 139-hour broadcasting week. It
is expected that even though the
MGM Hollywood studios will play
a more vigorous role in the sta-
tion's programming, it will con-
tinue its spectacular coverage of
the major sports events in metro-
politan New York.
The record industry's
salute featured the
"WMGM Jump" play
ed by Benny Good-
man and Count Basie;
songs by Vic Damone,
(pictured above).
In Glamour Lobby (the 15th floor reception room) Bob Hawk (r)
and Eileen O'Connell interviewed V.I.P. like Lanny Ross, center.
w>
is magic to a Man...
Look, out f
/wecJ^'Zwde$p
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Television actress Pat
Murray, "before" (above),
was not making the most of her
very good natural looks. "After", (at right)
her hairdo and careful, clever make-up combine
to give WPIX tele-viewers the best view of Pat when
they see her in the program Glamor on a Budget.
By Mary Jane Fulton
THERE being no retakes on television, a woman who wants to look
her prettiest before its camera must know her make-up technique.
Pat Murray, fashion stylist and director of WPIX's Glamor on a
Budget, is well aware of this fact. What she learned about corrective
make-up may well apply to any woman who wants to improve her looks.
Here she passes along the tricks she was shown by Mr. Farrar, of New
York's McAlpin Hotel Beauty Salon, whose pet project is a complete re-do
from the neck up at a low budget price.
Pat's hair is strawberry blonde, her eyes a bright, sparkling blue, her
skin fair. Her face is a combination type — square and oblong.
Because Pat's skin is inclined to be oily, Mr. Farrar advised careful
washing, morning and night, with mild soap, warm water, and a com-
plexion brush. She follows this with a warm, then a cold, rinsing,
astringent, and cake make-up base.
To minimize her wide brow, Mr. Farrar shortened her eyebrows by
plucking hairs from the lower outer half, and removing them on the
inner corner above her brow, creating an arch. To give a flattering frame
to her eyes, he touched brown mascara, sparingly, to her lashes.
He showed her how to blend rouge at the side of her cheekbones. Color-
ing applied to cheek hollows, this expert pointed out, only emphasizes
their hollowness. This trick also gave balance to her broad brow and
pointed chin.
In the "before" picture Pat's own lipsticking of her lower lip has made
her pointed chin even more so. In the "after" picture you can see how Mr.
Farrar has corrected this by squaring off her lower lip to balance her
pointed chin, and by making up both lips more generously.
He styled her naturally curly hair in a short, fluffy bob. The fullness
on the neck tapered her square jaw and softened her chin. He also gave
her a center part to detract from her broad brow, and fluffed her hair
a bit on top to give height. Soft curls brought slightly inward over the
temples also helped to minimize the broadness of her forehead.
Although your face may be shaped differently, some of these make-up
tricks may apply to you. Experiment— or seek an expert's advice. Then
you'll have a prettier face for Christmas — and all through the coming year.
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Sportscaster Moorehead (r)
interviews "Mr. Baseball"
himself, veteran Philadel-
phia manager Connie Mack.
Despite glasses, Tom Moorehead
was three-letter man at school.
A MAJORITY of the radio and television stars of to-
day will tell you that their airlane debuts came
about by accident. Tom Moorehead, WFIL's out-
standing sportscaster in Philadelphia, is among the few
who admittedly left nothing to chance. For years he
carefully groomed himself for a radio sports job and
when Tom made his move his success was instantaneous.
With but five years on the air, Moorehead has done
play-by-play commentary on an even dozen different
sports for radio and on five for television. His com-
mentaries are heard twice daily; he conducts two sports
variety shows; and he has taken his turn as a disc-jockey
and a quiz-master.
Nearly 40,000 pieces of mail in a six-month period this
year bear evidence of Tom's tremendous popularity
among Philadelphia sports fans.
Although handicapped by poor eyesight, Moorehead
was a three-letter man at Philadelphia's Germantown
Academy — playing football, basketball, and tennis. Dur-
ing these school years Tom was a keen student of every
sport and he started to compile a sports library that
would be useful to him in years to come.
Tom's first chance in radio came in 1939 when he
joined WFIL to make a listener survey. Later, he
worked in the station's promotion and special events
departments but that did not interrupt his intensive
study of sports. His vast store of knowledge became
known throughout the city and in 1943 he was named
Director of Red Cross Sports.
He started his first WFIL sportscasts that same year
and he was appointed station director of sports within
a year. At the same time, he began the Jacob Read
Schoolboy Sports Show, which is now in its fifth year
on the air.
Moorehead's days and nights are long. He may do a
play-by-play account of a tennis match in the afternoon,
his regular commentary at 6:45 P.M., a television sports
event in the evening, and his final sports round-up at
Midnight. In addition to this routine schedule, on Sat-
urdays he moderates the half-hour Sports Clinic in
the morning and the Schoolboy Sports Show at 7 P.M.
He has a half-hour television quiz, Batter-Up, on
WFIL-TV on Mondays. And he is frequently called
upon to handle an ABC network sports origination from
Philadelphia.
For a year, Tom was a quiz-master on the station's
CamDus Quiz show. This was a result of his great
popularity with the younger set. He has made women's
sports a part of his program, too, and at one point 40 per
cent of his mail came from women listeners.
When the town's top disc-jockey was ill for six weeks,
Tom was the popular choice to become LeRoy Miller's
stand-in.
Tom's interest in sports never will wane, he says. But
he feels that someday he might dabble in politics and
world affairs.
"There's a game," says he, "where I could really
preach sportsmanship."
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the lotion with the "beforehand" extra.
Bing Crosby's first guests of the season on his ABC.
Wednesday night show were his four singing sons: Gar>
beside his father, Phillip, Lindsay, Dennis in front.
^irsssss
By DUKE ELLINGTON
whose disc-show is on WLOW-
Norfolk, WFIL-Phila., KALL-Salt
Lake City, and other stations.
;" Old friends and co-work-
ers on the Supper Club, con-
ductor Paul Weston and singer Jo
Stafford share a pre-program laugh.
10
PROBABLY "20th-century Gabriel" Erskine
Hawkins' youngest press agent is his small.
nephew, son of the "Hawk's" sister, who lives in
Springfield, Ohio. Playing a one-nighter in that
town recently, the trumpeter was mystified by the
cross-examination his small-fry nephew put him
through. Having hit town only the day before, he
was a little surprised when the kid asked: "When
are you leaving, Unk Erskine?" "Hawk" replied that
he was moving on that same afternoon and was a
little taken aback by the obvious relief on the young-
ster's face. "Why do you want to know?" he asked.
"Because I told the kid next door my uncle could
beat up his uncle any time," the boy answered. The
"Hawk" did a double-take when it turned out that
the uncle of the kid next door is none other than the
Brown Bomber from Detroit — Joe Louis!
Lena Home has a terrific protege, non-musical
but definitely artistic. He's Edmund Kara, a young
fellow barely out of his teens who taught her to
paint so well that her finished portrait was sold
at a charity auction for three thousand dollars. He
also did such a fine job of decorating her Hollywood
home that it's become a showplace. And, as if to
prove that nothing creative is beyond him, Kara also
The Treasury Dept. knows its
staff: it's keeping Lionel Hamp-
ton on the MBS Treasury show.
Shoulder to shoulder: bandleader Dick Jurgens (1.),
and manager-brother Will add Will's wife Bettie to the
family. All three did wartime service with the Marines.
designed all of the breathtaking gowns which Lena
wears during her current sensational engagement at
Monte Proser's Copacabana in New York.
Talk about salesmanship! Following his engage-
ment at the Peabody Hotel in Memphis, during
which he shattered every record for that great old
hostelry, Elliot Lawrence became the rage of the
South. The Roosevelt Hotel in New Orleans, deter-
mined to have the young maestro for the Christmas-
New Year period, finally cinched the deal with an
offer which is definitely unique in one respect. A
clause in the contract guarantees the entire band
seats on the 50-yard line for the famed Sugar Bowl
football game!
Lots of folks are always laying claim to "discover-
ing" or "launching" this or that star, but few can
prove that claim as readily as Eddie Cantor. The
lovable, pop-eyed comedian gave Dinah Shore her
big chance on his radio show years ago, and today
Dinah shares starring honors with Eddie on their
Friday night NBC show — and nobody seems to get
a bigger kick out of the song star's climb to the top
than the fellow who actually "launched" her.
Margo Whiteman, teen-
age daughter of Paul White-
man, gets a "Be good, now" kiss
from Pops as she goes off to keep a date.
11
"Colgate Dental Cream's active penetrating
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of much bad breath. And Colgate's soft pol-
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LATER-Thanks to Colgate Dental Cream
12
Always use COLGATE DENTAL CREAM
offer you car and before every date
As usual, Frances Langford's new releases are perfect.
By Joe Martin
DANCING OR LISTENING
BILLY BUTTERFIELD (Capitol)— Although Billy is busily engaged these days in
commuting between Nick's in Greenwich Village and the New York radio studios, it's
good to be reminded that he had a fine big band in pre-ban days. His trumpet is featured
on both "Wild Oats" and "What's New."
EVELYN MACGREGOR (Seva)— Accompanied by Whitey Bernard's Three Kings, Miss
MacGregor sings "The Silver Shenandoah" and "Someone As Sweet As You." You should
like these clean interpretations of fair tunes.
HELEN FORREST (MGM)— "What Did I Do" from the motion picture "When My
Baby Smiles At Me" is one of the finest words and music combinations to have emerged
in oh-so-long. "I Love You Much Too Much" is a melody that will be very familiar to
you.
FRANK SINATRA (Columbia) — Two oldies make a fine pairing for Frank this month.
Victor Herbert's "Kiss Me Again" isn't as good as "My Melancholy Baby" — or is it the
other way around?
LEONARD WARREN (RCA Victor)— The robust baritone voice of Mr. Warren paired
with two good old sea chanties is the perfect mating, mate. "Blow The Man Down" and
"The Drunken Sailor" are wonderfully done.
RED INGLE (Capitol) — The full and complete title of Red's most recent bit of uproar-
ious hokum is "Seratun Yob" (A Song For Backward Boys and Girls Under 40) ! The
label also says "based on Nature Boy." It should have said debased Nature Boy. It's
absolutely terrific. No comment on "Oh! Nick-O-Deemo," the reverse side.
ORRIN TUCKER (Mercury)— This is Orrin without Bonnie Baker. Orrin himself
handles the vocal duties on "Little Girl" and "The Moon Is Always Bigger On A
Saturday Night." Both quite danceable sides.
FRANCES LANGFORD (Mercury)— Mrs. Jon Hall does right well by a couple of ballads
called "You Belong To My Heart" and "May I Still Hold You." Earle Hagen's
orchestra accompanies her on "May I." The reverse is "You Belong."
PERRY COMO (RCA Victor)— It's a slow, bouncy tempo for Perry on "When You're
Smiling" and the ballad tempo for "My Melancholy Baby." This Como fellow is
certainly a fine song salesman. This is one of the best of the recent record releases.
* * *
ALBUM ARTISTRY
HORTON HATCHES THE EGG (MGM)— Obviously, this was meant to be a children's
album, but the combination of a Dr. Seuss story, Marvin Miller narration and Del
Castillo music, makes this two-record album on unbreakable Metrolite an adult's album
too.
DORSEY'S CLAMBAKE SEVEN (RCA Victor)— Tommy Dorsey's Dixieland group is
brought back to life with the issue of this album of the old favorites dating back to the
days when T.D.'s band boasted of such stars as Edythe Wright, Bud Freeman, Dave
Tough and Johnny Mince. Remember a craze called "The Music Goes Round and
Round?" It's in this package.
CHOPIN— RAY TURNER (Capitol) — In addition to its value as a collection of excellent
piano solos of some of the great master's finest works this album can serve the
important purpose of proving to little Sister or Junior that practicing will eventually
result in this kind of sound. This is the kind of Chopin that will impress even the
"heppest" jazz fan.
Collectors d
orner
By Denny Dennis
(At the time when Americans were
swooning over Sinatra and Como, the
English were reacting in much the same
way to Denny Dennis. When his first
London Record was issued in the
United States, Tommy Dorsey realized
that here was a great new voice. Tommy
cabled Denny immediately and now
Denny's platters are selling faster each
day, while he travels the country with
Tommy Dorsey' s great new band.)
Realizing that this may sound com-
pletely out of character, I must confess
that a good part of my record collec-
tion consists of march records. It may
be that my five-year hitch in the ser-
vices left a permanent mark on my
musical likes — or it may be that I've
always wanted to be a drummer. What-
ever the cause, the result has been a
collection of discs in four-four time.
So then, I've taken the liberty of list-
ing ten of my favorite march albums or
records. If they don't seem to agree
with your favorites, just bear in mind
that collecting records in England is
just a little more difficult than collect-
ing them here in the United States.
1. The March from "The Love of
Three Oranges" by Prokofieff played by
the Boston Symphony Orchestra under
Serge Koussevitzky (RCA Victor).
2. "Colonel Bogey" played by The
Band Of H. M. Irish Guards (London).
3. "March Of The Toys" from Victor
Herbert's "Babes In Toyland" played
by Andre Kostelanetz and his Orches-
tra (Columbia).
4. John Philip Sousa's "King Cotton
March" played by the Edwin Franko
Goldman Band (RCA Victor).
5. Tchaikovsky's "Marche Slav" as
played by the Cleveland Symphony
Orchestra under the leadership of Ar-
tur Rodzinski (Columbia).
6. The Vienna Philharmonic record-
ing on Telefunken Records (German)
of Johann Strauss' "Egyptian March
Op. 235." Clemens Krauss conducts the
orchestra.
7. The "Notre Dame Victory March"
as played by the Notre Dame Uni-
versity Band (RCA Victor).
8. "Pomp and Circumstance March
No. 1" by Sir Edward Elgar, played
by the London Symphony Orchestra
under Warwick Braithwaite (London).
9. "American Patrol" by the Glenn
Miller Orchestra (RCA Victor).
10. "Stars And Stripes Forever" by
the Goldman Band (Columbia).
ringing for more !
Little— but with big ideas about the foods she likes!
She proves it by the way she goes for those good-tasting
Gerber's! From the flavorful Cereals through delicious
Vegetables, Fruits, Meat-combinations and Desserts, Gerber's
seem to taste better to tots !
Even spinach rates a call for "seconds." Mothers call
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R
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13
Time out for coffee, during Sam Spade rehearsals,
for star Howard Duff and Lurene Tuttle, his Effie.
Bob Hope sneaks in a few practice swings
before joining the rest of his foursome.
Situation out of hand: Uncle Louie
(Frank Dane) on NBC's Meet The Meeks.
%UUr
VT OT sure why, but advertising agency control of
j\; radio shows is at the lowest ebb in fifteen years.
I" With CBS way out in the lead, the networks are
taking program creation right out of the hands of
the "hucksters" and building more and more of their
own shows. Maybe this will give listeners a chance
to register their preferences directly, through letters
to the stations, instead of indirectly via increased
sales of a product which may or may not be due to
approval of a program.
* * *
Money isn't everything department . . . Take It or
Leave It, which made the $64 question a household
word, has topped Stop the Music in the Hooper
rating, although Stop the Music gives its jackpot .
winner everything including the kitchen sink.
* * *
Signs of the times ... A number of radio stars are
doubling between their own shows and featured ap-
pearances on other programs. Could be because
salaries ain't what they used to be.
* * *
Seems to us that producers of radio programs
angled at kids could take a tip from television's
Small Fry Club. There's been a lot of back and
forth chatter about whether hair-raising adventure
strips are fit for young ears, but very few people
in radio have done much about finding some other
form of entertainment for the kids. On the Small
Fry Club they have a gimmick that could be useful
to really interested programmers. Small Fry has a
puppet named Pirro, which represents child curiosity.
He investigates alarm clocks, vacuum cleaners,
Kenny Delmar (on Fred Allen's right) is the first to answer the question on current issues during one of Fred's
Sunday night trips through Allen's Alley. Awaiting their turns are Minerva Pious, Peter Donald, and Parker Fennelly.
mirrors, telephones, electric lights and any other
gadgets that mystify and intrigue youngsters. In fact,
the kids write in and suggest things for Pirro to
explore. And, while Pirro takes these things apart
and finds out what makes them tick, the kids are
getting basic lessons in elementary science — the easy
and most stick-in-the-head way.
* * *
Some time ago we reported that we'd heard that
there were plans being made to install radio receiving
sets in Detroit buses. Okay. They did it and pulled
in an avalanche of protesting letters. Most of the
complaints objected to the use of transportation
money for such purposes rather than for improve-
ments in services and vehicles. And who can say
they were wrong?
* * *
Everett Sloane, who plays the role of Arthur Drake
in This Is Nora Drake, has been temporarily replaced
in the part by Ralph Bell. Sloane is in Rome work-
ing in the movie "Prince of Foxes," which is being
produced there by Darryl Zanuck.
* * *
Amos 'n' Andy have started a new kind of deal in
radio. Their contract sells their services outright to
the CBS network for a cool two million dollars and
the network makes back its dough by lend-leasing
the comics to a sponsor.
* # *
We were recently told that Frances Dexter, assis-
tant director of the Superman series, has not missed
a broadcast in five years. Since Superman is a five-
times-a-weeker, this is the (Continued on page 24)
-
Senator Ford, Harry Hershfield and Joe
Laurie Jr. about to become a jungle din-
ner in their movie, which is called — like
their NBC show— "Can You Top This?"
Mrs. Victoria Corey, KDKA's Educational Director, goes
over a script with actors from The School Of The Air.
TO THE three "Rs" of the Little Red School House days
another has been added — one for Radio which is
typified in KDKA's School of the Air.
Originally designed for Pittsburgh schools when it
began September 17, 1945, the KDKA public service
feature has grown until it is today being used by public
grade and high schools, parochial and independent school
systems in Western Pennsylvania, Ohio and West Vir-
ginia, as well as colleges and other radio stations.
An academic innovation in the school systems, the edu-
cational series establishes a concrete link between radio
and the classroom. Specifically designed to supplement
classroom instruction, the KDKA School of the Air is
required listening each Monday through Friday at 9:45
o'clock. Where it is impossible for the students to listen
at that time, programs are transcribed for later use.
Mrs. Victoria Corey, the station's educational director,
heads the planning committee which is composed of
leading educators of the area. Special teachers' hand-
books are prepared by the station for the use of the
teachers, and teachers themselves prepare script out-
lines. Scripts are written by Arlene Jack of KDKA's
continuity department, with Lionel Poulton in charge
of production.
The same day each week is devoted to a particular
classroom course and the immediate program is based
on the current textbook lessons. The schedule for the
week is as follows: Mondays, geography; Tuesdays, con-
sumer education; Wednesdays, music and literature;
Thursdays, nature study and Fridays, social studies in
other lands.
New to KDKA's School of the Air this year are the
Tuesday and Friday broadcasts. On Tuesdays, the pro-
gram is devoted to a home economics series for the
Junior-Senior high school students and homemakers
which teaches them how to run their own homes. The
course covers the field completely from preparing
budgets to making slip covers.
The new Friday broadcasts have an international
flavor. With Understanding One World as the specific
title, the series consists of transcribed portions from
various foreign countries, followed by a discussion in
which four boys and girls, each representing a local
high school, participate. Whenever possible, an exchange
student from the country under discussion is asked to
take part in the broadcast.
In addition to the School of the Air, Mrs. Corey
conducts a Teachers' Workshop in the studios where
teachers are trained in the fundamentals of radio writing
and production so that they can assist in preparing
School of the Air programs. Talent used both on the
broadcasts and on the workshop productions is secured
from the schools the teachers represent.
The School Of The Air is required listening Mon.-Fri. at 9:45 A.M. The broadcast is followed by a period of classroom discussion.
16
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On NBC at 11 A.M., CBS at 2:30
P.M., in This Is Nora Drake.
B
)A\CK in September, Ralph Bell re
placed Everett Sloane in the role
of Arthur Drake on This Is Nora
Drake, a show distinguished by being
heard on both NBC and CBS networks
daily— NBC at 11 A.M. and CBS at 2:30
P.M., EST. Adding this stint to his
others makes Bell's air schedule read
almost like the daily newspaper listing
of radio shows. For besides his Nora
Drake assignment Mr. Bell has leading
roles on some nine or ten programs,
among them such well known standbys
as Right to Happiness, Gangbusters,
Counterspy, Evelyn Winters, Lorenzo
Jones and Mr. District Attorney. In
most of these shows, Ralph Bell spe-
cializes in tough guy roles. The Nora
Drake stanza calls for the portrayal of
a mild-mannered, elderly gentleman
and it's to Bell's credit that he can get
this quality into his voice, since his
personal characteristics are youthful-
ness, exuberance, friendliness.
Ralph Bell is a young man who has
been dedicated to acting and the theater
for as long as he can remember. He was
born in 1916 in New Jersey and grew
up in Hackensack. He remembers his
childhood as having been very happy,
in itself a rather unusual thing. Ralph
went to the University of Michigan,
where he majored in English. Of course,
a great part of his time was spent in the
Drama School there. He acquitted him-
self so well that on his graduation in
1937, he was offered a job teaching
drama and play production at his alma
mater. Well, it was a job, what's more
a job in his chosen field, and he took it
for a year.
After a year, he felt he'd gathered
enough experience to put it to practical
use. He moved to New York and very
soon found jobs in Broadway shows,.
His success was rapid. He starred in
George Abbott's "What a Life," the play
that later grew into the radio Aldrich
Family program, in which Bell later
worked often, too. He also starred in
"Native Son" and has worked with such
famous theater names as Dorothy Gish.
Louis Calhern, Ezra Stone and Milton
Berle.
In private life, he's a suburbanite,
with a house in Flushing, Long Island.
He is married to Pert Kelton, who is
familiar to radio listeners in her own
right. They have two sons, one three
and a half, the other a year and a half.
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Order your cards today!
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MRS. RUSSELL FLAGG GREER, this beautiful Camay
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helped make my skin clearer and smoother."
Sally Work talks directly to her
audience; knows whereof she
speaks. Below: with WBEN-TV's
Joseph Jenkins at an experiment-
ally-televised sportsmen's show.
SUCCESS on a woman's radio program means two
things to WBEN's Sally Work— First: Talking di-
rectly to her audience, never over their heads. Sec-
ond: Knowing whereof she speaks, by living it herself.
Sally's success is measured by a history on the air dating
back to 1926, by a current group of 15 sponsors, by a
long waiting list of would-be sponsors and by a faithful
following of women fans in the Buffalo station's listen-
ing-area. Her half -hour (1:30-2:00 P.M.) Monday-Fri-
day program, beamed directly toward women, deals, in
Sally's words, "with everything we think they'll be
interested in from politics to the care of babies. It is
not so much entertaining as informative . . . we tell
about advertised products as painlessly as possible."
Sally was one of half-a-dozen women broadcasters who
antedated the networks with a network-type show. She
started radio work at WGR in 1926 on what she be-
lieves to have been the first woman's advertising pro-
gram of the participating type. That was a sideline for
her newspaper work as women's editor for the now-
defunct Buffalo Times.
In 1928, Frank McCormick, an advertising man on the
Times, was talking with E. C. Rainor of Chicago. Rainor
wanted an identical radio show aired at the same hour
daily by women in different cities — that's where ante-
dating the networks came in. Each woman was to
broadcast under the name of "Work." Of the women
who started this program, Sally is the only one who has
stuck to the original name.
Sally Work made her aerial bow as such from WMAK.
When this contract expired, after a year or so, WMAK
asked Sally to continue and, as a sideline, she did so,
writing her own copy. When the Times was sold to
Scripps-Howard, Sally went to The Buffalo Evening
News as its first woman's editor. As soon as a woman's
program was established on the new WBEN, she went
there in September, 1932, as Sally Work, writing and
producing her own material, "with the great privilege
of accepting only the things she believes in."
On her 1:30 P.M. daily offering, Sally works in each
sponsor two to three times weekly — some of them daily.
E. W. Edward's & Son has been backing her for almost
ten years, since it opened its new department store;
Ellsworth Shoe Store has had a daily place on her half-
hour for seven years.
She and her husband, Mr. W. Nelson Wilkinson, a
retired newspaperman, are building a home on the
Canadian side of the Niagara Frontier.
During the war, when Sally reminded her listeners to
write to servicemen, she was speaking as the mother of
Warren Wilkinson. A second son, Murray, has two
children, Mark, 5 years, and Ann, 14 months. Maybe
that's where Sally gets some of the audience "feel"
which leads her to believe most of her appeal is to
mothers and homemakers.
Born in Toronto, she got her formal schooling there,
from kindergarten to the University of Toronto. Her
favorite hobbies are swimming and horseback riding but
Sally also has wheeled many a full barrow to help her
husband in the making of his beautiful garden. On the
Board of Directors of the Association of Women Broad-
casters, she voluntarily teaches beginners' classes in the
Buffalo League of Advertising Women and speaks at
Women's Club meetings.
R
M
21
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WOULD YOU MOW THE LAWN?
Radio Mirror's Best Letter of the Month
Dear Papa David:
Although we grew up in an unusually
close-knit and affectionate family, my
two brothers and I indulged in child-
hood's normal share of silly quarrels
and selfish actions. We were all espe-
cially determined not to be imposed
upon and although we performed our
allotted household tasks willingly
enough, no one of us would have
dreamed of doing the other fellow's
job for him.
One night, in a particularly affection-
ate— and boastful — mood, my older
brother, then fourteen, declared expan-
sively that if he were ever given the
opportunity, he would gladly give up
one of his eyes to save either my
brother or me from blindness, cut off
his arm if it would save ours, or per-
form a number of other heroic deeds.
My father listened gravely; then in his
quiet, right-to-the-point manner asked,
"But, Steve, would you also mow the
lawn for your brother or sister?"
At the time we thought this a huge
joke, but now, after fifteen years, Dad's
remark stays with me and I see its
real significance. I would gladly give
my life for my little daughter or won-
derful husband, but "would I mow the
lawn for them?"
When I think I'm too tired to say
"yes" to some childish request or to
make that special cake my husband is
perpetually yearning for, I remind my-
self it is the little daily favors done in
a loving spirit that mean more to a
happy home life than all the heroic
intentions in the world. A mutual will-
ingness to "mow the lawn" has, indeed,
made our married life more beautiful.
Mrs. B. R. G.
The ten-dollar letters follow:
PRETTIEST SCHOOLGIRL
Dear Papa David:
Twelve years ago I married a farmer
and left the city where I had been
teaching. Since Jim had a hired couple
to help on the farm, I accepted a posi-
tion at the small, rural school near-by.
On my first day at school, my heart
was torn by the sight of a tiny girl in
the second grade, exquisite in every
way but marred by a hideous scar
which completely covered her left
cheek.
As she grew older, consciousness of
her deformity made her withdrawn
and unhappy. She tried every kind of
cream, but none helped. Her parents
took her to a doctor, but found that
plastic surgery was beyond their small
income.
One day I noticed a contest for "New
England's Prettiest Schoolgirl." Aman-
da was beautiful in profile. Her hair
was a mass of blond curls and every
feature was perfect.
We took dozens of pictures of her —
swinging her school books, sitting at
her desk — but always in profile. Aman-
da won. With her prize money and
with the money her parents had saved,
Amanda had her operation.
If you could see her now, doing her
best to make others happy; if you could
look into her face — her lovely face —
as she goes about her duties as a stu-
dent nurse, you would know that for
Amanda life is truly beautiful.
Mrs. S. O.
LIVING CREATIVELY
Dear Papa David:
Many times during the course of my
life, I have wondered how there could
have been any happiness possible for
me, a helpless cripple. Like so many
invalids, — at seventeen I was stricken
with a deadly rheumatic disease — I be-
came sullen and morose. Hatefully, I
availed myself of every opportunity to
create conflict in our family.
I thought the very worst had befallen
me. Then, in a terrible accident, my
beloved parents and little sister were
killed and my face became horribly
scarred. For awhile, as I hung in that
awful abyss between life and death,
my only thought was of suicide.
At length I took stock of myself and
in an effort to find myself again, began
to study. I read during all my waking
hours and when the pain of knowing
myself as a useless human being would
come, I would again find solace in books.
After living nearly five years as a
recluse, I learned of a position as com-
panion at a small sanatorium for blind
invalids. After making inquiries, I
learned that a general knowledge of
psychology was required. Again I
turned to books for help, and was able
to secure the position. For the first time
I became necessary to others.
22
Life Can Be Beautiful, written by Carl Bixby and Don Becker is heard Mon.-Fri. on NBC at 12
It was in the sanatorium I became
acquainted with the dearest person in
the world. He is an ex-physician who
became blind and partly paralyzed as
the result of an accident. With his gentle
patience I have learned that life is in-
deed beautiful to all who make it so.
Miss G. S. L.
THE LIGHTHOUSE
Dear Papa David:
One Friday night last February I left
the office depressed as usual by the
prospect of another lonely weekend. In
my eight years away from home I never
felt homesick, except on weekends.
During the week I devoted myself
eagerly to my job, which I love, but
on weekends I wanted to be with my
family.
That night on the subway I was in-
terestedly thumbing through my news-
paper when pictures of the Lighthouse
Association for the Blind caught my at-
tention. The accompanying article told
how this association was helping the
blind and ended with a plea for volun-
teers— readers, teachers, guides.
I had always thought of the blind as
a sad and depressing group so, because
I wanted company for my own misery,
I called the Lighthouse to offer my
services. I was assigned as Sunday
afternoon substitute reader to a blind
Hindu professor from Calcutta, India,
who was earning his second Ph. D. at
a New York university.
When I went up to the Dormitory for
the Blind that first Sunday, I went as
a martyr. But the short, dark, wavy-
haired little man who met me so
astounded me with his Americanization
— not so much in his dress but in his
appreciation of our jokes and way of
living — that I soon forgot to be sorry
for myself. Before many Sundays had
passed, his regular left and I took over
as his permanent reader.
Then, one night, the professor invited
me to dine with him at an Indian res-
taurant. After that we often mixed
business and pleasure — dinners and
walks in the park following our read-
ing sessions. Now, for the first time
in eight years, I look forward to week-
ends— to a stimulating Sunday with a
lively companion. Even though I am
ashamed of my original motive I be-
lieve that had I not taken the initial
step I would have lost a wonderful
opportunity.
Miss E. N.
RADIO MIRROR OFFERS $50
EACH MONTH FOR YOUR LETTERS
Somewhere in everyone's life is hidden a
key to happiness. It may be a half-forgotten
friend, a period of suffering, an unimportant
incident, which suddenly illuminated the
whole meaning of life. If you are treasuring
such a memory, won't you write to Papa
David about it? For the letter he considers
best each month, Radio Mirror will pay fifty
dollars; for each of the others that we have
room enough to print, ten dollars. No letters
can be returned. Address your Life Can Be
Beautiful letter to Papa David, Radio Mirror
Magazine, 205 East 42 Street, N. Y. 17, N. Y.
4oon, PST; 1 P.M. MST: 2 P.M. CST; 3 P.M. EST.
Are you in the know ?
When giving a party, which is important?
D Fancy refreshments □ Banishing the family O Keeping fhe guests busy
Good hostessing doesn't take caterer's chow
... or shooing Mom to the movies. Plan
the doings. Have records handy. Provide
the "props" for games. At Christmas, let
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If your back's blemished,
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0 A stole
Stoles are high fashion . . . not meant for
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D The cuddle couple
□ The boogie blast
□ Four's a crowd
Joy ride? Uh-uh. For here, say safety ex-
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(See all three answers above.) First, the
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Co., E-Z-Do and Princess House closet ac-
cessories; Simmons Co., Thor Corp., Go-
pay Corp., Dan River Mills, Dundee Mills,
I. B. Kleinert Rubber Co., United Wallpaper,
Apex Electrical Mfg. Co., Certified Lamp
Makers, Nutone Door Chimes, Ozite under-
rug rushions, Bissell Carpet Sweeper Co.,
Dirilyte Flatware, Ruzak Co., Royledge Co.,
Donnelly-Kelley Glass Co., Proctor Electric
Co., Pro-Phy-Lac-Tic Brush Co., Anchor
Hocking Glass Co.
* Today — get your December issue of
PHOTOPLAY
for full information and contest entry blank.
COAS'l to COAST
{Continued from page 15)
equivalent of perfect attendance at a
weekly show for twenty-five years!
$ Jt *
The really big "Gee Whiz of 1948"
is disc jockey Jim Hawthorne in Holly-
wood. This lucky fellow went from a
job at $85 a week at a Pasadena radio
station, to the ABC network a short
time ago, his contract calling for $40,000
a year for five years. That ought to take
care of him very nicely.
* * •
That speedboat routine of Guy Lom-
bardo's isn't the only thing that gets
him around. Now comes news that his
transcribed program, featuring thirty
minutes of "the sweetest music this side
of heaven," has been sold on Lourenco
Marques Radio, commercial Portuguese
East African station beaming into South
Africa. South African citizens are now
listening to the Guy Lombardo music
Sunday mornings.
* * *
Look for Jimmy Scribner in the new
Abbott and Costello pic, "Africa
Screams." Jimmy is the radio actor who
does the many voices on The Johnson
Family stanzas for Mutual. In the
movie, he plays the part of an insur-
ance agent with a one million dollar
policy on the life of Mr. Costello. He
follows the short, chunky comedian on
a safari through the African jungles —
to see that nothing happens to make the
policy pay off.
* * *
Here's a bit of interesting news you
may have missed if you didn't catch the
particular Newsreel broadcast on
which it was presented. In a couple of
years, it was announced by Dr. James
M. Wood, president of the Women's
Foundation, there will be a college for
middle-aged women who are looking
for special training that will fit them
for useful, skilled work. Dr. Wood said
that the Foundation figures there are
about 15 million women in the country
whose "children are grown and who
have few things to occupy their time."
The requirements for entrance to the
new college will be a real interest in
education and normal intelligence. No
high school diplomas will be necessary
You can probably get more information
through the Women's Foundation.
* • •
We found out that no matter how
much he earns, Andy Roberts, vocalist
for Skitch Henderson's orchestra, gets
the same old allowance. Morton
Downey, who discovered Roberts, socks
away all the rest in a trust fund for his
protege.
* * *
GOSSIP AND STUFF . . . Harolrl
Peary, The Great Gildersleeve, is now
in his 26th radio year . . Alan Young
will replace Date With Judy when the
contract expires this January . . . Rumor
has it that a major radio-tele firm is
working on a device which will convert
a radio into a tele set when attached . .
CBS announcer Frank Goss doing nar-
ration jobs on preview films for Screen
Plays, Inc. . . . Jack Carson and Dennis
Morgan busy on another one of their
"Two Guys" flickers at Warners . . . For
the ninth consecutive year, Mutual will
air the Cotton Bowl Gridiron classic on
New Year's Day . . The new video
package that Professor Quiz is selling
features him as a magician rather than
quizmaster . . . Thanks to the efforts of
fTlHEY tell me that home is what you make it.
Well, I can't call my home mine any more. And I guess I made it that way the
day I got the bright idea to buy a television set.
Now, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't part with rrfy television receiver for anything —
unless it were for a bigger and better model. But . . .
First of all, my home is not a house in the country or the suburbs. It's a four-and-a-half
room city apartment. I rented it in the summer of 1944 just a week before our third baby
arrived, when it was important to get a roof over our head — and a floor under our feet.
But that little image, in some respects, had less of an effect on our lives than the images
that arrived via our television set when we bought one six months ago.
The thing that sold me on buying a set at once was the Saturday afternoon I visited
my friend Ned's place to see a football game on his set. His place was mobbed. About
thirty friends were there. I had to be content with craning my neck from a bridge chair
over the burly shoulders of those who got there first. The game was a good one and,
as I went home through a heavy downpour, I marveled at the convenience of having a
set of one's own. No motoring through bad Fall weather to games. No buying tickets
from speculators. No craning my neck over people taller than I am. I'll buy a set of my
own, I decided. So I placed an order.
It seemed like a long wait for delivery, but then came the fateful day. I had an awful row
with the landlord who said he didn't want his rooftop cluttered with television antennas. I
had to think fast. I had already contracted for the set, although I knew that the dealer
would allow me to cancel. I promised the landlord that I would sign a release assuming
all responsibility for damage that his building might sustain from my aerial. Furthermore,
I said that he and his young son could drop in any time to see television programs. I lived
to regret the last part. The landlord's family practically boarded with us during the re-
mainder of the football season.
What made matters worse is that the landlord — what with his insistence on rent in-
creases and his drastic cuts in building service since the war — was a decidedly unpopular
fellow with my neighbors. When he began visiting me socially on television sports days,
I felt that my own popularity was waning. So I took the bull by the horns and invited a few
neighbors, too. On top of this, there were always some fellows from the office whom I
had to invite (or who invited themselves) for special television events.
The result: I'm still looking at television over other people's shoulders!
And as a television host (there's nothing in Emily Post's book on this category) I had to
blaze a trail in hospitality. I had to serve refreshments, empty ashtrays, open the door,
hang up coats and attend to all the other rituals of home entertaining. My wife is a
great scout about my bringing friends home, but she drew the line (Continued on page 81)
Ordinarily, letters to the editor find their way to Radio Mirror's Information Booth, there to
be answered to the best of the editors' ability. But this, we feel, is different —
first, because we have no answer for it. And second, because Anonymous __
has a problem that's likely, any day now, to be yours as well. *-■»
*«.
25
IF yours is an average family, there's probably a pretty definite
radio listening schedule at your house.
Most families have one. In many cases it's not carefully written
out and hung on the wall above the radio (although sometimes it
is) but certainly it's firmly fixed in everyone's mind. Mother has
her favorite programs; some Dad wouldn't miss for the world; the
children have their likes and dislikes as well. When the time for a
family favorite rolls around, everyone gathers about the radio, an-
ticipating an evening of real enjoyment. (Happy the family with two
radios, so that the minority opinion, if there is one, can be satis-
fied, too!)
Those listening schedules are a pattern of each family's "likes."
Of course, there's no such definite schedule of "dislikes." If a pro-
gram comes on which no one wants to hear, the dial is turned to
another station.
Radio — meaning the vast army of people which is responsible for
what is heard on the air — would like to know, from the even more
important radio people, the listeners themselves, what their favorite
programs and who their favorite performers are. Is a certain star
getting a lukewarm reception or is he a prime favorite with the
public? Has a new program so captured the listeners' fancy that
they would like more shows patterned after it? What comedian
provokes the heartiest laughter? What musical program has the
widest appeal? Which daytime serial is most inspirational, most
true to life?
26
To obtain the answers to these questions, Radio Mirror last year
launched the Radio Mirror Awards, the only opportunity on a
nation-wide scale for listeners to express their opinion of listening
fare. True, there are other polls — but most of them are either
regional in character, sample opinion on only one specific type of
program or performer, or are polls of editors or critics, not of
y listeners. True, there are people in the business of getting such
information from listeners for radio rating services, but they reach
only selected listeners in selected cities. The Radio Mirror Awards
poll is voluntary, unrestricted — its aim is to discover preferences
of listeners who are interested enough in what is now on the air,
and what will be offered as listening fare in the future, to fill in
ballots stating those preferences.
Last month, as the first part of the Radio Mirror Awards for 1948,
you were asked to vote for your favorite radio performers. Below is
the second and final ballot for this year. Use it to vote for your
favorite radio programs. On this ballot, next to each type of radio
show listed, fill in the name of the program which, in your opinion,
is the best in that field. Send your ballot to Radio Mirror Awards,
205 East 42nd Street, New York 17, N, Y. You need not sign your
name unless you wish to.
Results of voting on both ballots will be announced in the April,
1949, issue of Radio Mirror Magazine.
Have you a right to speak your mind about programs
you hear on the air? Indeed you have— as a
listener you're the most important person in radio!
27
Commentator, columnist, author, Pearson finds enough time
to keep oue practiced hand on the pulse of current events
and the other ou affairs at his farm outside Washington, D. C.
A ringside view of
controlled energy at work
in a man of many
talents, many ambitions
YBO
By DAVID RARR
28
MY boss Drew Pearson is so many men rolled into one
that I feel stifled about starting. He's the columnist
who writes "Washington Merry-Go-Round" for 600
newspapers; he's the radio broadcaster who is listened
to by twelve million people every Sunday night over
ABC at 7:00 P.M. (EST); he's the co-author of such
famous books as Washington Merry-Go-Round, More
Merry -Go-Round, Nine Old Men, and The American
Diplomatic Game. He's a "Quaker relief worker," if you
should ask me, and he's also a farmer— with a sense of
humor. Being his assistant — what you might call his
"leg man" — I'm in a position to know about that last item!
Just take a look at his farm, which lies outside Washing-
ton, D. C, if you want to see all these things combined.
There my boss has flocks of animals — with appropriate
names. For instance, every one of the bulls on the place
is named for some one who has publicly called Drew a liar.
"The first bull I named after a person who called me
a liar was named Roosevelt," grins my boss, "and after
that I named bulls Cordell Hull, Stalin, Senator McKellar,
Truman, Senator Tydings, and so on. You have no idea
how odd it is when we butcher a bull. Stalin, I recall,
was the toughest and most sinewy bull we ever ate!"
The prize boar is named Stettinius — "Because he's a
bore, and because he's so beautiful," explains my boss.
When the Japanese cook first started out of the house to
feed "Stettinius" some garbage, she tried to say his name
and failed. Instead she announced, "I go feed State De-
partment now."
That gives you a faint idea of (Continued on page 79)
By rising at 6 A.M. and planning every
moment of the day, Pearson can he much
more than merely a "gentleman farmer."
Drew Pearson's radio column is heard Sun-
day nights at 7 P.M. EST, on ABC stations.
\M
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3U1*J
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Wat
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i»ft»i 111 tit
^1^1^^
*. £
The Ed Gardner house began life as a Swiss chalet, bat it became pure Gardner — meaning pure comfort — as soon as the
family took possession. One of the specialties of the house is the magnificent view of Bel Air that lies before it.
EDDIE GARDNER, aged four, has a new baby
brother, and his father, Ed — better known as
Archie — Gardner, couldn't be happier.
"Two boys?" he boasts, "not a bit more trouble
than one. It's a cinch!"
At which Simone, Ed's delightful French wife,
echoing mothers of brand new, Number Two babies
the world over, groans.
" 'A cinch,' he says. Plut a Dieu!"
And she describes Black Thursday — which was
just the day before; first day off for five-weeks old
Stevie's nurse, first day on — with two children — for
mama.
It wasn't so bad, at the start. Mrs. Ellis gave Stevie
his six ajn. feeding, made the formula for the day
before she left. And Eddie was off at nursery school,
where he stays every day until after lunch.
"And I was at the office," put in Ed, "jumping up
and down on my writers. Duffy's never closes, new
babies or not."
Simone, with her first chance alone with little
Stephen, exulted. It was fun! The sunbath — just
three minutes on each side to toast him properly —
he's still too new for long exposures. The bath — and
the first smile at mama — what a lovely thing a new
baby is. How satisfying to see him responding to you!
With the ten ajn. bottle, things began to get a little
grim. Simone was tired. (Both of her babies were
born by Caesarian section.) Stevie didn't want the
whole eight ounces. And he cried when Simone urged
him. He was sleepy, he howled.
"Too sleepy even to — what is it you say — burp,"
his mama recalls. "So as soon as he is in the, bassinet,
up comes the milk." And up comes Stevie for another
bath, clean clothes, clean bed, another bottle — with
burp this time! — and at last, sleep.
At this Simone had her first cry.
Ed is indignant.
"You didn't tell me," he protests. "I thought it was
only that Eddie . . ."
"I had forgotten the morning before you came
home," Simone says, managing a laugh, "it got so
much worse . . ."
Eddie came home at noon.
Now Eddie had been scientifically conditioned for
his new brother's arrival. Ed and Simone had read
up on all the modern psychology, knew all about
"sibling rivalry," "regression," and all the other long
names for trouble with "old" baby when the new
baby comes.
Oh fa* day* oMfam t6e %*e**, V«$j* «t** &***(& ojfatoum.
ii )
gardnir
By PAULINE SWANSON
"ft* ™ - it- *
Because Ed plays a brilliant game of tennis, Simone
now plays a pretty good one. Because Ed loves sailing,
she spends days on the Malabar VII. But her favor-
ite sport, Ed says ruefully, is "going to Magnin's."
If plenty of dogs didn't live there, Ed wouldn't either.
Red-haired "Duffy" is one of his closest friends.
Ed Gardner Is heard on DuOV'a Tavern. "W*d. at 9 P. M. EST on NBC
Simone and Ed needn't have worried about young Eddie's
reception of the new baby. "Stevie," Eddie says, "is mine."
fZuiU * Ufa.. .*&& quite <i family
KDNIR
"'''''I'"1 ( l(" "<■» btb) Stevi. i.i.i,
The Eil Gardner h.
family took po^esi
EDDIE GARDNER, aged four, has a new baby
brother, and his father, Ed — better known as
Archie — Gardner, couldn't be happier.
"Two boys?" he boasts, "not a bit more trouble
than one. It's a cinch!"
At which Simone, Ed's delightful French wife,
echoing mothers of brand new, Number Two babies
the world over, groans.
" 'A cinch,' he says. Plut a Dieu!"
And she describes Black Thursday — which was
just the day before; first day off for five-weeks old
Stevie's nurse, first day on — with two children — for
mama.
It wasn't so bad, at the start. Mrs. Ellis gave Stevie
his six ujii. feeding, made the formula for the day
before she left. And Eddie was off at nursery school,
where he stays every day until after lunch.
"And I was at the office," put in Ed, "jumping up
and down on my writers. Duffy's never closes, new
babies or not."
Simone, with her first chance alone with little
Stephen, exulted. It was fun! The sunbath — just
three minutes on each side to toast him properly —
he's still too new for long exposures. The bath — and
the first smile at mama — what a lovely thing a new
baby is. How satisfying to see him responding to you!
With the ten a.m. bottle, things began to get a little
grim. Simone was tired. (Both of her babies were
born by Caesarian section.) Stevie didn't want the
whole eight ounces. And he cried when Simone urged
him. He was sleepy, he howled.
"Too sleepy even to — what is it you say — burp,"
his mama recalls. "So as soon as he is in the.bassinei
up comes the milk." And up comes Stevie for another
bath, clean clothes, clean bed, another bottle — with
burp this time! — and at last, sleep.
At this Simone had her first cry.
Ed is indignant.
"You didn't tell me," he protests. "I thought it was
only that Eddie . . ."
"I had forgotten the morning before you came
home," Simone says, managing a laugh, "it got so
much worse . . ."
Eddie came home at noon.
Now Eddie had been scientifically conditioned for
his new brother's arrival. Ed and Simone had read
up on all the modern psychology, knew all about
"sibling rivalry," ''regression," and all the other long
names for trouble with "old" baby when the new
baby comes.
Oh iU cUyx *Mfii*m tie *?*****. Vujfr'* ma* &** attfeoftU
Because Ed plays a brilliant game of tennis, Simone
now plays a pretty good one. Because Ed loves sailing,
she spends days on the Malabar VII. But her favor-
He sport, Ed says ruefully, is "going lo MagninV
If plenty of dogs didn't live (here, Ed wouldn't either.
Red-haired "Duffy" is one of his closest friends.
uC"«liirfi,k,IBI„Ouii,'.T..,™ ».H M 9 P-W- ESTm NBC
aO(e...mitifUUa^mctu
Lauritz Mekhior says that nobody else would have a dog like
"Anything." And Ed wouldn't give him up for anything.
"Two children," Ed and Simone told each other, "will be as easy
to care for as one." That was before there were two to care for.
t* i
-
■
• - -.
-
:
:
it
"Anything" may be unorthodox, but the Gardners
It was going to be his baby, they had told him
His to love, his to take care of, his to set an
example for. Eddie was such a big man now; he
could teach the new, ignorant creature a greal
deal about what goes on in this big, wide world.
"You are our baby, and you know how much we
love you," they told him, over and over again.
"You will love your baby too."
When Simone was at the hospital to have Stevie
— and away from Eddie for the first time — Ed
looking it up in the back of Dr. Spock's book, com-
pensated his son for the momentary loss, tools
great pains to be with Eddie more.
"I got saddle sores from the pony. track," he
laments, "tone deaf from the Merry-Go-Round.''
But Eddie was just fine.
When Simone came home with Stephen, Eddifl
was at the door to welcome "his" baby, although
he did forget his earlier plans to show the babj
where its room was. He was too busy at thi
moment hugging his mama, clinging to her as h«
used to when he, too, was small, and utterJj
dependent.
But a little later, when Stevie was comfortably
ensconced in the ruffled bassinet, Eddie made ujji
for the momentary neglect. He gave his nevi
brother his most precious possession, a batterecl
shred of his own baby comforter now rolled up al
a crib-bumper which had been in his own be<)
ive a patio and barbecue that's typical Bel Air.
Eddie, already an all-round athlete, will take his Dad on at
anything from boxing to a handstand contest, and no cheating.
pery night as long as he could remember.
The Gardners, glowing with Successful Parent-
ood, were really touched.
Everything was dreamy for awhile after that,
ddie would have been glad to take care of his
aby, except that the nurse did all that. And he
>uld spend the time sitting on mommie's bed,
slling her all about the day's excitement at Mrs.
uckley's school.
And since the little baby was too little to "play
nigh" — Ed loves children, Simone says, but he
asn't the faintest idea what you do with them be-
)te they're old enough to roll on the floor — Eddie
ad his father all to himself a good part of the
me too.
There were tiny hints of unquiet in Eddie's de-
jrtment. If he watched mama give Stevie a
pttle, he thought it would be "a good game" if he
'mid be fed his supper too. He all but abandoned
ie out-of-doors, finding a perch two feet from his
lother the pleasantest place to be. But there was
') real trouble — until Black Thursday.
He came home at noon and went straight to his
other's bedroom. She wasn't there; Stevie had
vakened from his nap with a touch of colic and
mone was in the nursery, holding the unhappy
tie fellow on her lap.
"Play with me" Eddie demanded grimly after
atching this tableau for (Continued on page 82)
So sold was Eddie on the institution of brotherhood that he pre-
sented Stevie with his own ragged but cherished baby comforter.
I
Come andWrf IB GARDNER
Luuriiz Melchior sayn that nobody else would have a dog like
"Anything.*1 And Ed wouldn't give him up for anything.
"Two children," Ed and Si. nunc told each other, "will be as easy
lor ii» one." That waft before there were two to care for.
"Anything" may be unorthodox, but the Gardner*
It was going to be his baby, they had told him.
His to love, his to take care of, his to set an
example for. Eddie was such a big man now; he
could teach the new, ignorant creature a great
deal about what goes on in this big, wide world.
"You are our baby, and you know hov. much we
love you," they told him, over and over again.
"You will love your baby too."
When Simone was at the hospital to have Stevie
—and away from Eddie for the first time— Ed,
looking it up in the back of Dr. Spock's ' ok, com-
pensated his son for the momentary loss, took
great pains to be with Eddie more.
"I got saddle sores from the pony track,
laments, "tone deaf from the Merry-G
But Eddie was just fine.
When Simone came home with Stephen, Eddie
was at the door to welcome "his" baby, aluiougb
he did forget his earlier plans to show the baby
where its room was. He was too busy at tne
moment hugging his mama, clinging to her as
used to when he, too, was small, and utterly
dependent. . H„
But a little later, when Stevie was cornioruw
ensconced in the ruffled bassinet, Eddie made UP
for the momentary neglect. He gave htsn
brother his most precious possession, a °™
shred of his own baby comforter now ro"~"Pb(a
a crib-bumper which had been in his own
he
Round."
hive a patio and barbecue that's typical Bel Air.
every night as long as he could remember.
The Gardners, glowing with Successful Parent-
hood, were really touched.
Everything was dreamy for awhile after that.
Eddie would have been glad to take care of his
baby, except that the nurse did all that. And he
could spend the time sitting on mommies bed,
telling her all about the day's excitement at Mrs.
Buckley's school.
And since the little baby was too little to "play
rough"— Ed loves children, Simone says, but he
basn't the faintest idea what you do with them be-
fore they're old enough to roll on the floor— Eddie
bad his father all to himself a good part of the
time too.
There were tiny hints of unquiet in Eddie's de-
portment. If he watched mama give Stevie a
bottle, he thought it would be "a good game" if he
wuld be fed his supper too. He all but abandoned
to out-of-doors, finding a perch two feet from his
mother the pleasantest place to be. But there was
"oreal trouble— until Black Thursday.
He came home at noon and went straight to his
"other's bedroom. She wasn't there; Stevie had
"*akened from his nap with a touch of colic and
jfmone was in the nursery, holding the unhappy
"We fellow on her lap.
'Play with me," Eddie demanded grimly after
*«tching this tableau for (Continued on page 82)
Eddie, already an all-round athlete, will lake hit Dad on at
anything from boxing to a handiland contral, and no cheating.
So told was Eddie on the inililution of brotherhood that he pre-
tented Stevie with his own ragged but ihcri.hr, I bib) comforter.
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Guest Joe Francis (r.) has a surprise for Don: an ancient business card dating from
the days when "D. McNeill" was manager of the "Five Master Harmony Kings."
IT'S as well to remember,
every now and again, that all
the big shows do not come
from New York or Hollywood.
There's Chicago, too! So, this
month, we take you to Studio A
in Chicago's Merchandise Mart
from which the Breakfast .Club-
bers send their hour of fun each
morning. It seems like dawn,
when you get there. Maybe you
had to skip breakfast (which is
not really served with the
show!). You may begin to ask
yourself why you did it And
then Sam Cowling wanders in,
yawning, rubbing his eyes, act-
ing exactly the way you feel.
While announcer Bob Murphy
is instructing the audience, Sam
idly picks up a sign. "We're
Hungry, Too" it says — and you
know why you came. It's the
Breakfast Club brand of fun
which nobody, no matter how
breakf astless, can resist.
Don McNeill and The Breakfast
dob are a Monday through Fri-
day feature, at X A .M. C ST, 9 A .M.
EST on ABC network .tatioo..
A moment's trace interrupts the fending
of Jack Owens (1.) and Sam Cowling.
They've all gotten np at dawn, but to a
Breakfast Club audience it's no sacrifice.
35
T>«
fywfc
\%M
.--—
•a * *■
X.SO
Gnest Joe Francis (r.) bus a surprise for Don: an ancient business cud dating from
law days when "D. McNeill" wa> manager of the tin Matter Harmon j Kings."
ITS as well to remember,
every now and again, that all
the big shows do not come
from New York or Hollywood.
There's Chicago, too! So, this
month, we take you to Studio A
in Chicago's Merchandise Hart
from which the Breakfast Club-
bers send their hour of fun each
morning. It seems like dawn,
when you get there. Maybe you
had to skip breakfast (which is
nqt really served with the
show!). You may begin to ask
yourself why you did it And
then Sam Cowling wanders in,
yawning, rubbing his eyes, act-
ing exactly the way you feeL
'While announcer Bob Murphy
is instructing the audience, Sam
idly picks up a sign. "We're
Hungry, Too" it says — and you
know why you came. It's the
Breakfast Club brand of fun
which nobody, no matter bow
breakfastless, can resist
■>» McNeill «J The Bhaatan
Oaa aa» m ttmmimr thi Basil IH-
'■ll- Uu», .tSA-M.CST.9AJM.
«ST o. AatC aatwoak .
A moment*! trace interrupts the fending
of Jack Owens (U and Sam Cowling.
Taey've all gotten up at dawn, hat to a
Breakfast Club audience it's no aaerifiee.
I I , H
Showmen like Bert Parks don't just "decide" to go into show business.]
tetwtttiL
ttw£tTcoim&
Bert Parks' record-
setting career be-
gan when, at 17, he
became a network
staff announcer.
He's now M.G. of
ABC's Stop the
Music (Sun., 8 P.M.
EST) and Break the
Bank, also ABC.
By
MARTI
COHEN
IT'S undoubtedly true that a man who gives away money can't avoid making
friends. The more money — the more friends. And Bert Parks, while emceeing
ABC's Stop the Music and Break the Bank, has given away a staggering amount
of money to alert contestants. Naturally, the enriched contestants love him.
But there's more to it than that. Being Bert Parks, they would have loved him
even if he were not the giver of gifts, for he knows a show-business secret worth
more than its weight in gold. Bert knows how to make the audience- one with
him, and vice versa. Even radio sophisticates realize it's the human side that has
endeared Bert Parks to millions of radio listeners. Like the real spirit of St.
Nicholas, Bert Parks has a heart full of sympathy and warmth for people.
"Bert never gets a laugh at the expense of a contestant," one of his associates
says. . . . and a Pittsburgh radio man's face lights up with recognition, "Even out
in the sticks we've heard that Parks is a grand person" . . . and a young girl from
California says, "He's real sweet."
It adds up to the outstanding characteristic of Bert Parks that distinguishes all
real showmen: he loves people. If a radio program doesn't go exactly right, he is
heartbroken and figuratively kicks himself all the way home. For Bert didn't
wander haphazardly into a radio studio selling insurance and stay to be an an-
nouncer. He's had his wagon hitched to show business since the age when he was
paying half -fare on Atlanta trolleys.
"I didn't make very good grades in school," Bert will tell you guiltily. "No
wonder. Instead of doing homework, I'd prop a mirror in front of my arithmetic
book, pencil a mustache on my lip and just mug."
As a kid, Bert idolized Charlie Chaplin and sat through his pictures three and
four times, studying every trick of the great comedian. At the age of nine, when
Bert made his professional debut with the first Atlantic showing of "The Gold
Rush," he did an impersonation of Chaplin.
"They gave me twenty dollars in silver to impress me," Bert remembers. "But
it wasn't the silver that jingled in my ears, it was the echo of the audience
applause."
From then on, Bert had the show bug. He didn't think twice about breaking
into his parents' parties to draw some laughs. He would coax his patient brother,
Allen, to play straight man in the bedroom rehearsals. He found a ready audience
in his schoolmates for the stories and monologues he invented. At the age of
sixteen, he graduated from Marest College, an Atlanta military school, and headed
for an audition at WGST, the Georgia Tech radio station. He was hired as a
singer and staff announcer.
"They paid me seven dollars a week," Bert says, grinning. "Until the depression
when I took a twenty per cent cut with the rest of the staff."
Bert worked at WGST for a year and a half and he might still be there, for in
these 48 states there are well over a thousand radio stations and many many thou-
sands of announcers who dream of big network jobs just as (Cont'd on page 71)
Something inside won't let them rest until they are in . . . running the show
37
Eager contestants for the Bathing Suit Queen
title line up, appropriately clad, outside
Mutual studios long before time for the show.
UEEN FOR
Dozens and dozens of pretty
girls, all of them in bathing suits! No wonder
the entire male population envies Jack Bailey
Some were more shy than others — they waited
until they were safely inside the building
before peeling down to that essential sui
EVERY day, on Queen For A Day, a special
class of queen is chosen — cowgirl Queen,
perhaps, or kitchen Queen, or great-
grandmother Queen — and she is presented
with gifts galore, feted throughout her day-
long reign, granted the wish dearest her
heart, has the time of her life! These pictures
were taken on Bathing Suit Queen day.
When the judging was over, M. C. Jack
Bailey, tastefully dressed in a striped pink-
and-purple confection of doubtful vintage,
crowned Virginia Hunt as Queen and de-
clared the runner-up contestants her court.
Virginia, whose wish was for a job teach-
ing swimming, was presented with a ward-
robe of bathing suits, and, among other
things, got a week's vacation in Bermuda
for herself and her mother.
Queen For A Day, with Jack Bailey u» M.C., ie heard each
Monday through Friday, 2 to 2:30 P.M. EST, Mutual.
38
With Jack on one hand
and Johnny on the
other, Queen Virginia
holds court in the mids>t
of models wearing
their bathing suit prize*.
*4 -'
■■i-'**~
w\m
es*-i»
^HETOWN HOUS
Queen Virginia and her court have a luncheon
party — and what better place for an aquatic
repast than on a raft in the middle of a pool?
Eager contestants for the Bathing Suit Queen
title line up, appropriately clad, outside
Mutual studios long before time for the show.
Some were more shy than others — they waited .
until they were safely inBide the building!
before peeling down to that essential suit! J
EVERY day, on Queen For A Day, a special
class of queen is chosen — cowgirl Queen,
perhaps, or kitchen Queen, or great-
grandmother Queen — and she is presented
with gifts galore, feted throughout her day-
long reign, granted the wish dearest her
heart, has the time of her life! These pictures
were taken on Bathing Suit Queen day.
When the judging was over, M. C. Jack
Bailey, tastefully dressed in a striped pink-
and-purple confection of doubtful vintage,
crowned Virginia Hunt as Queen and de-
clared the runner-up contestants her court.
Virginia, whose wish was for a job teach-
ing swimming, was presented with a ward-
robe of bathing suits, and, among other
things, got a week's vacation in Bermuda
for herself and her mother.
Quern For X Day, with Jock Bailey aa M.C., is heard each
Monday through Friday. 2 to 2:30 P.M. EST. Mutual.
Dozens and dozens of pretty
girls, all of them in bathing suits'. No wonder
the entire male population envies Jack Bailey
*76ene one tAinft youtty oh, down oh tfiefanat, t&
2^>3>
>
By
MAC
McKERROW
Mac McKerrow is one of the
successful farmer-contest-
ants on KFI> America, heard
on NBC, with Ed Bottcher
as the questioning M. C.
*l
" /»
Post mortem on the p
gram, with quizmaster
mrr
ME AND Bing Crosby— I chuckle when I think of it—
but it's actually true — we will both be competing
for "Oscars" at the same time.
In December, when Bing, strolling up to sock a golf
ball, wonders what the Motion Picture Academy of Arts
and Sciences will do about "Emperor Waltz," I'll be
milking cows on our farm at Pewaukee, Wisconsin,
hoping I'll be quick-witted enough to cope with Ed
Bottcher's questions and smart enough to beat Robert
Sawyer and two other opponents to win R.F.D. Ameri-
ca's title of Farm Champion of the Year.
Whatever the outcome, I'm sure of one thing. I'll
be more jittery than Bing is.
Come to think about it, a farmers' "Oscar" has been
a long time arriving. Since the Middle Ages, farmers
have entered stock, grains and handiwork in fairs and
exhibitions, but the competition has been between the
products of one grower and those of another.
In contrast, competition on R.F.D. America is per-
sonal. It's man against man, with the nation listening. If
you miss, a couple of million people hear it; if you win,
you go home and start studying, trying to stay on top.
In less than a year, R.F.D. America has become an
important factor in my life. In that time, studying to
prepare for the smart guys from other states, I've
learned more about our nation's agriculture than I ever
soaked up in school; I've learned how to put that
knowledge into words, and, just as importantly, I've
made new friends and had fun. I hope the audience, too,
has enjoyed it.
That first show, however, started out as a sort of
combined second honeymoon, football game and old
fashioned country school spelldown.
Interviewed by Tom Lewellen, the man who travels
the country to select the contestants, I met the qualifi-
cations. I'm an actual farmer, managing my family's
473-acre dairy and sheep farm. I satisfied him I had
enough farm knowledge and (Continued on page 74)
(^pUfo<K€4fat*6HM*6*ut, &.g?.'D.rt*H&Uc*,teUit6etHi
iottcher at left, and contestants Miles Sutera, la.;
)oris Handy, Mich.; Mac; Elizabeth Stevermer, Minn.
Mac McKerrow — typical of the new
alert generation of U. S. farmers.
City kids play with toy autos, but when they were young
Mac and his sister Isabel, left, had "Thunderhead."
41
I
By
MAC
McRERROW
Mae McKerrow i« one of the
■uecesaful farmer-conteit-
unio on RFD America, beard
on NBC, with Ed Bottcher
an the questioning M- C.
E AND Bing Crosby-I chuckle when I think nf i.
but it's actually true— we will both I
for "Oscars" at the same ttal ^ C°mpeUng
In December, when Bine stroll in<* ,,~ *
ball, wonders what the u£S£&1&£S £
and Sciences wiU do about "Emperor Waltz," I'll ^
milking cows on our farm at Pewaukee, Wisconsui
hoping 111 be quick-witted enough to cope wT^S
Bottcher s questions and smart enough to beat Robert
Sawyer and two other opponents to win R.F D Arne.-i
ca s title of Farm Champion of the Year
Whatever the outcome, I'm sure of one thing I'll
be more jittery than Bing is.
Come to think about it, a farmers' "Oscar" has been
a long time arriving. Since the Middle Ages, farmers
have entered stock, grains and handiwork in fairs and
exhibitions but the competition has been between the
products of one grower and those of another
In contrast, competition on R.F.D. America is per-
sonal. Its man against man, with the nation listening. If
you miss, a couple of million people hear it; if you win,
you go home and start studying, trying to stay on top.
In less than a year, R.F.D. America has become an
important factor in my life. In that time, studying to
prepare for the smart guys from other states, I've
learned more about our nation's agriculture than I ever
soaked up in school; I've learned how to put that
knowledge into words, and, just as importantly, I've
made new friends and had fun. I hope the audience, too,
has enjoyed it.
That first show, however, started out as a sort of
combined second honeymoon, football game and old
fashioned country school spelldown.
Interviewed by Tom LeweUen, the man who travels
the country to select the contestants, I met the qualifi-
cations. I'm an actual farmer, managing my family's
473-acre dairy and sheep farm. I satisfied him I had
enough farm knowledge and (Continued on page 74)
^&enc^t^H^<^MfOH,dowK<uct^ianm,tk ty^*"^****™*****. *,?&. JmvUcateO* ftfe
Bottcher at left, and contestants Miles Sutera, la.;
■is Handy, Mich.; Mac; Elizabeth Stevenner, Mir
Mac McKerrow — typical of the new
alert generation of U. S. farmers.
City kids play with toy antos, but when they were young
Mac and his sister Isabel, left, had "Thunderhead."
"It was like a dream — even when we got off the train that had brought ns from Iowa to Hollywood
and found Bud Abbott (left) and Lou Costello (right) waiting to lead papa and me to our new riches."
I PRAYED— and it happened to
me.
It still does - not seem possible
that it happened. It's like a dream
that my husband and I were sud-
denly whisked from our little town
in Iowa into a breathtaking whirl
of sightseeing in Hollywood. It's like
a fairy tale that we are now rich
where before we were anxious and
poor. It's incredible, but it's true,
that my letter on juvenile delin-
quency won the $30,000 in prizes
offered by the Abbott and Costello
radio program!
And I have complete faith that it
all came in answer to prayer, to
prayer offered humbly out of need.
I cannot say that my husband and
I were desperately poor. In the
larger sense, even before this radio
manna from heaven fell upon us, we
were rich. We have five children
and eight grandchildren. I am fifty-
four and Daddy — my husband — is
fifty-eight. We have been married
for thirty-five years, and we have
worked hard. Through good times
and bad we provided for our chil-
dren until they could take care of
themselves. The realization of all
this is riches of a kind that cannot
be measured in mere money.
And yet, this being a practical
world, we had our very real wor-
ries. Rearing five children on a
workman's wages did not leave
much for savings. All the children
— from Charles, the oldest, who is
thirty-four now, to Helen, the
youngest, who is twenty-five — were
married and starting their own fam-
ilies. We were determined never to
be a burden to them, no matter how
much they loved us and we loved
them.
Daddy and I lived in a two-room
apartment over a restaurant in the
little town of Shenandoah, Iowa. It
was comfortable, even though small,
and we liked it there, especially
when it was crowded with visiting
grandchildren. One reporter has de-
scribed our home as "small and
cluttered." Being a woman, I rather
resented that as a reflection on my
housekeeping. If he meant "clut-
tered" with memories of our full
lives, with the sweet little gifts made
for me by the grandchildren, with
the happy echoes of their little
voices asking for the cookie jar,
then I'll let it pass.
But one day Daddy came home
and I sensed immediately that some-
thing was wrong. He looked un-
usually tired, discouraged, almost
beaten. He hated to tell me, but
finally it came out:
42
The Abbott and Costello show on which Mrs. Lawrence was a winner is heard Sat.,
11 A. M. EST, ABC. Abbott and Costello arc also heard Thurs., 8 P. M. EST, ABC.
Prayer had something to do
with it. So did a mother's
thoughts on juvenile delinquency.
Together, they added up to $30,000
By
Mrs. BESSIE M. LAWRENCE
"I'm laid off, Mamma."
His job in a local seed company
had folded under him. To make it
worse, he had only recently recov-
ered from a bad sick spell. The doc-
tor had prescribed a long rest, and
now it seemed likely that he would
be forced to take a longer one. His
physical condition, his age, both
would hinder his search for new
work.
"Well, Daddy," I said as cheer-
fully as I could, "now you can really
get that rest. And we'll manage
somehow." But I knew that our
small savings account would dwin-
dle further, and I'll confess to a
sinking feeling about the heart.
I wondered how I could help. And
here, although I didn't dream of it
then, my radio came to the rescue.
I had listened faithfully to the Ab-
bott and (Continued on page 85)
"This fabulous trailer was mine — and new friends, too: here I am
with Lou, Earl Davis (a trailer company official) Papa, Bud, and
Adolph Wenlund who supplies a lot of the prizes people win."
I
I
"It was like a dream-even when we got off the train that had brought us from Iowa to Hollywood
and found Bud Abbott (left) and Lou Costello (right) waiting to lead papa and me to our new riches.
I PRAYED— and it happened to
me.
It still does not seem possible
that it happened. It's like a dream
that my husband and I were sud-
denly whisked from our little town
in Iowa into a breathtaking whirl
of sightseeing in Hollywood. It's like
a fairy tale that we are now rich
where before we were anxious and
poor. It's incredible, but it's true,
that my letter on juvenile delin-
quency won the $30,000 in prizes
offered by the Abbott and Costello
radio program!
And I have complete faith that it
all came in answer to prayer, to
prayer offered humbly out of need.
I cannot say that my husband and
I were desperately poor. In the
larger sense, even before this radio
manna from heaven fell upon us, we
were rich. We have five children
and eight grandchildren. I am fifty-
four and Daddy— my husband — is
fifty-eight. We have been married
for thirty-five years, and we have
worked hard. Through good times
and bad we provided for our chil-
dren until they could take care of
themselves. The realization of all
this is riches of a kind that cannot
be measured in mere money.
And yet, this being a practical
world, we had our very real wor-
ries. Rearing five children on a
workman's wages did not leave
much for savings. All the children
—from Charles, the oldest, who is
thirty-four now, to Helen, the
youngest, who is twenty-five — were-
married and starting their own fam-
ilies. We were determined never to
be a burden to them, no matter how
much they loved us and we loved
them.
Daddy and I lived in a two-room
apartment over a restaurant in the
little town of Shenandoah, Iowa. It
was comfortable, even though small,
and we liked it there, especially
when it was crowded with visiting
grandchildren. One reporter has de-
scribed our home as "small and
cluttered." Being a woman, I rather
resented that as a reflection on my
housekeeping. If he meant "clut-
tered" with memories of our full
lives, with the sweet little gifts made
for me by the grandchildren, with
the happy echoes of their little
voices asking for the cookie jar,
then I'll let it pass.
But one day Daddy came home
and I sensed immediately that some-
thing was wrong. He looked un-
usually tired, discouraged, almost
beaten. He hated to tell me, but
finally it came out:
Prayer had something to do
with it. So did a mother's
thoughts on juvenile delinquency.
Together, they added up to $30,000
By
Mrs. BESSIE M. LAWRENCE
The Abbott and Coatello show on which Mi*. Lawrence was t
11A.M. EST, ABC. Abbott and Coetello are alao heard Thu
id beard Sat.,
8 P. M. EST, ABC.
"I'm laid off, Mamma."
His job in a local seed company
had folded under him. To make it
worse, he had only recently recov-
ered from a bad sick spell. The doc-
tor had prescribed a long rest, and
now it seemed likely that he would
be forced to take a longer one. His
physical condition, his age, both
would hinder his search for new
work.
"Well, Daddy," I said as cheer-
fully as I could, "now you can really
get that rest. And we'll manage
somehow." But I knew that our
small savings account would dwin-
dle further, and I'll confess to a
sinking feeling about the heart.
I wondered how I could help. And
here, although I didn't dream of it
then, my radio came to the rescue.
I had listened faithfully to the Ab-
oott and (Continued on page 85)
"This fabulous trailer was mine — and new friends, too: here I am
with Lon, Earl Davis (a trailer company official) Papa, Bud, and
Adolph wenlund who supplies a lot of the prises people win."
n
fie
!'ste* *
foal *°
9V
Sl-a
**>*,
d*yZh
°*»«*
Pro.
*y
sis?
Your letter came a little late,
But, reminiscing, I recall
That once we had a dinner date,
And that was all — or nearly all.
Perhaps there was some other thing,
Or was that still another lad?
I think it happened in the spring —
My memory is very bad.
I'm sure I had a lovely time;
I think we danced a little bit,
And I composed a silly rhyme;
That was about the end of it.
But thank you for the flowers you sent-
How lovely — your remembering 1
I know the words were kindly meant;
I am obliged for everything.
FROM A REBEL HEART
That you have never asked a song
Of praise ior praises due you
Has kept my heart one melody
With every song sung to you.
That you have never set a course
Commanding me to follow
Has kept me shadowier *an
The hounds to hare they follow.
you. wiser than all textbooks are.
Long since have learned the art
Of mastering by non-demand
This once rebellious heart.
--Virginia Scott Mrner
*m
>ya
.reader £er>t
««^«*«l^.^«Tfi?- ^e
^^k^setJ'S
ooJte
°° <*€
JO
f £ad/° MirreSS to?*?* to
Th^r„
ttits "
*^r
paSes.
— —
Nol wrapped in crisp tissue and topped
with a bow
Was the small gift he sets on the table;
Not tied with red ribbon, nor splendid
with stars;
But here was the truth of the fable-
Though pieces of paper confettied the
place
From his efforts in wrapping it up,
I visioned the light on his small, earn-
est face,
And I knew that his heart was a cup
Brimming over with love as he wrapped
"P my gift
On that night of a distant December;
And of all the grand parcels I opened
next day —
Hh is the one I remember!
—Pauline Havard
THE PHASE IS FAMILIAR
I find
J don't mind
Taking chances
With romances
Because, while P-r«n9
*we» sorrow
With those who are here today
gone tomorrow,
• ioM feeling vaguely re-
And one is left teeitna
gretful—
After all, I AM very forgetful-
An _Rod Maclean
i
W
'(I S\ ,v
#
saw, «gAts
Und^stood') man said -
p ' ' a man
Cf -^, tA°Se^iad
tent-- dv«Wy, Ca>
ner«A her , t *'' Co«-
_ nod; ner Cr°chetin„
re^afa , g'Stmi»gto
God. a fa<* like his n-
"SS^'— ...
•J
T
0
ICE
VICE
What is father to a little boy?
A voice rolling off the Siege of Troy,
A Santa Claus bringing a coveted toy;
Escort when the circus comes,
Oracle in arithmetic sums,
Purveyor of candy, best of chums.
What is mother to a little boy?
A grim command, a homeward convoy,
Hands that withhold an undeserved toy,
An ear that seems deaf to repentance
and rue;
It's hard to believe, and yet it's true
That a little ****** Uum hie mother, tc
He who cuts a figure eight
M,out me as! concentrate
. nraceful when I skate
On being graceru
1 hotel
-Addison
H. HoHock
^Yk*
little boy loves his mother, too! ^V^Vk '
—May Riehstone * " » *
Jul/
/ II
c0X&i
T3lM
B
.tBSS«D
GIFT LINES
Since you would like to know what
special yen
Is circulating through my head.
It's this: don't ask me what I want and
then
Secure me something else instead!
— S. H. Dewhurst
yjho
t\ev«
ieb
the
urg* the d«tft«*e *«J>
To roaTQ * piodded by bat gave n
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*tatS' „ vnth mau auu .
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M ;at\sned- ^Christie ^^^—
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• •,
DEAR BILL:
Radio Mirror's Prize Poem
Your letter came a little late,
But, reminiscing, I recall
That once we had a dinner date,
And that wai all— or nearly all.
Perhaps there was some other thinq,
Or was that still another lad?
I think it happened in the spring —
My memory is very bad.
I'm sure I had a lovely time;
I think we danced a little bit,
And I composed a silly rhyme;
That was about the end of it.
But thank you for the flowers you sent-
How lovely— your rememberlngl
know the words were kindly meant;
I am obliged for everything.
My note may reach you rother late;
Perhaps this is the better way
(The date was such a little date)
My son — and Jim's — came yesterday.
— Faye Chilcote Walket
CHILD'S GIFT
Not wrapped In crifp „„„. „nd
with a bow
Was the .mall gift he eel. on Ihe table-
Not Bed with red ribbon, „„ ,p,.n(fld
with stars;
Bui here was Ihe trulh of the fable—
Though pi.e„ of pap,r c.nh|H
place
From his effort, j„ wrapping It op,
I vision., lh„ ,,„„, „„ Ml
est face.
And I knew lhal his heart wo. a cup
Brimming over with love a. he wrapped
"P my gift
On that nighl of a distant December;
And of all the g,„„d p„rc„, , d
next day —
Hit is the one I remember!
— Pauline Havard
FROM A REBEL HEART
Thai you have never asked a song
Of praise lot praiee. due you
Has kept my heart one melody
With every song sung to you.
m That you have never set a course
■ commanding me to tallow
9! Has kept me shadow-closer than
' The hounds to hare they follow.
A , you. wise, than all textbooks are,
/ (J leng mnce have learned the art
Of mastering by non-demand
This once rebellious heart.
—Virginia Scott Miner
k *
KH
'**■►*?
**>*
^
*».
THE PHASE IS FAMILIAR
I find
I don't mind
Taking chance.
With romance.
B...U.., while porting I. «"*
sw«el sorrow .
With .has. who or. n- »'"'* °nd
gone tomorrow,
And on. 1. leftf.."".™-"""0-
grelful—
After all, I AW very forgetful.
—Rod Maclean
1 *&«•;::: ^w
' ' 'O'irer
Th d *>«* 0a„, """"ess,
11 Jro,
«ers.
tto
e/o,
• ac'o»
"JUent ,
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eart
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caress
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fVn*
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issell
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ran'"« ^sh fr °'d »-«.
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?pe„ *« »o»der, „ ,,
°°e^Aier ^ "->• co„.
Cod. a face Jiie j ,0
TWO LOVES
What Is father to a little boy?
A vole* rolling off lh* Slag* of Troy,
A Santa Claus bringing a covoted toy;
Escort when the circus comes,
Oracle in arithmetic sums.
Purveyor of candy, best of chums.
What is mother to a little boy?
A grim command, a homeward convoy.
Hands that withhold an undeserved toy.
An ear that seems deaf to repentance
and rue;
It's hard to believe, and ytt it's true
That a little boy loves his mother, toot
— May Richitone
GIFT LINES
Since you would like to know what
special yen
Is circulating through my head.
It's this: don't ask me what I want and
then
Secure me something else instead)
— S. H. Dewhurst
ICE VICE
Hewhocutsafl9««flloM
About me os .concentrate
On be-.no graced when UWote
I hclel
^K'
,
BlM
BUSSED
[e\< '
v cout*1 Y^o,.-
blr*' „ dreams «» » *"
*T °" ,l0«Snneer ^
street .^ ^
#W"Ll <*>* * ' „ice or
nr^vsu-*^*"
T-r „.*--
in the even." * ^ t*«
Thmherehu^- ^
ES^co^-„, *«'
fl^;*.»-*--*
^e( W' „ and Ooi • • '
«-^e.n*e^«1^ , „„d
Vf> «nd God • • '
st«5' , „i* man ana
•v.r>;ii
Bernard Estrin has come a long, long way
through a dark country for which there were no maps
BERNARD ESTRIN, our Traveler of the Month, really
had come a long way when I met him — all the way
: from self-pity and despair to a brave, hopeful future.
In miles, it wasn't far— just from St. Louis to Chicago.
But he traveled those miles in a wheel chair, and brought
to all of us at Welcome Travelers a rare story of courage
and spirit.
It's the story of a young Navy veteran who, when
stricken with polio at the age of 27, forgot his own pain
and paralysis by becoming the "wheelchair disc jockey"
for all the other wounded, sick men at the Veterans Hos-
pital, Jefferson Barracks, in St. Louis. Happily, it's also
the story of a person who found a new life for himself,
a promising new career, while trying to bring a little
diversion into the bed-ridden lives of his fellow patients.
You see, Bernard Estrin, the hospital disc jockey, now
plans to go into radio. In a sense, his appearance on
Welcome Travelers was his real radio debut. The few
moments that he chatted with me before our ABC micro-
phone had all of the drama and excitement of a first night
on Broadway.
You have to hear the whole story, however, to appre-
ciate the significance of those few moments. So let me
recall that story for you now, and show you how far our
Traveler of the Month has traveled.
Bernard, a clean-cut, well-built young man, grew up
right in Chicago — the city from which Welcome Travelers
is broadcast. He was graduated from high school and
then, like millions of other boys, looked for his first job.
Because he loved airplanes, he hung around Chicago's
airports — just another nice kid with sky fever, another
boy who wanted wings.
He got the first feather in those wings washing dishes
at an airport restaurant. A little later, he worked for
TWA as a cargo handler. Then, only 19 years old, he got
By
TOMMY
BARTLETT
M.C. of Welcome Travel-
era, heard Mon.-Fri. at
12 Noon, EST, over ABC.
a good job: he became a passenger agent for TWA.
The world was a wonderful place for that boy of 19.
He was making lots of money, bringing Mom little pres-
ents on pay nights and taking out a flock of pretty girls.
It was a world in which sickness was only a word, in
which no one stood still. It was a world which came to
an end with the war, a world which, for Bernard Estrin,
at least,, will never again exist.
At 19, he went into the Navy. He got to be a Specialist,
First Class, a weight computer for an Air Transport
Squadron. For three-and-one-half years, he was in the
Pacific. Not the glory stuff, you understand, just heat
and work, just sweating it out, and occasionally ducking
for a fox hole when the Jap bombers came over. And all
the time, of course, he was thinking about his job back
with TWA.
At last, the day came: December 23, 1945. He was a
civilian again. His family had moved to St. Louis, and
Bernard became a TWA passenger agent in that city.
He was young and doing well, and each new morning
had a bright and special shine.
Then, in August, 1946, he came down with polio. Just
like that. Fourteen days of pain, fog and fever in a
hospital isolation ward, with time only to suffer, and no
time to think. After that, the Veterans Hospital, with
nothing but time. Time to think, time to suffer, time
to think about suffering. As Bernard recalled to me:
"I'd just lie there and try to figure out why I was
being punished, why this awful thing had happened to
me. I couldn't move a muscle, then. I could only think."
In time, with the fine treatments provided by the Vet-
erans Administration, Bernard began to reclaim a part
of his body. One hand worked well, the other, pretty
well. The arms were coming along. The legs would move
when supported by braces.
"There were other boys with polio. A few died, and
the rest were like me. We were of all faiths and creeds,
and we all prayed. No one begrudged the other his
special faith. We couldn't afford the luxury of prejudice.
We just prayed."
Bernard tried to keep himself busy. With his stiff
hands, he tried to knit a cap for his young nephew back
in Chicago. He tried writing letters. He tried. Slowly,
he was emerging from the worst despair of his illness.
As he said:
"One day, a boy with an incurable disease came and
sat by my bed. He was wonderfully cheerful, and told
me to buck up. For the very first time, I realized that
there were others who were even worse off than I was.
46
jA----fu--^^-
Bernard Estrin's appearance
on Welcome Travelers was
a sort of debut, for he
hopes to embark on a
career as a radio disc jockey.
"So I took a big step forward, at least for me. I started
wondering if, after all, there still could be some sort of a
useful life for me. I didn't know what it would be, but
at least my ideas were beginning to go down a useful
channel."
|N the hospital there was a one-lung "radio network."
* A patient acted as a disc jockey, and his patter and
music were beamed into all of the wards. There are
bigger networks, of course, but it's hard to imagine one
with a more faithful listening public. As Bernard joked:
"Our radio station has a Hooper of 700— that's how
many beds there are. But there's one thing you can bet
on — we don't miss out on a single potential listener. They
have to listen. There's no place they can go."
One day, the boy who was acting as disc jockey became
too sick to continue his work. The people in charge
looked around for a replacement. Bernard Estrin was
intelligent, a good talker and the possessor of an authori-
tative, pleasant voice. They offered him the job and he
snapped it up.
"At least," he said, "it was going to be something
different. I had no idea how a disc jockey operated, but
it was wonderful to think that I would be doing some-
thing again."
Bernard was nervous that first day, but he was a
definite hit. The patients liked his cheerful manner, en-
joyed the way he kidded his own sickness and theirs by
referring to them as "sackhounds." They laughed at his
jokes and, overnight, Bernard was a celebrity in the
hospital.
After that, a two-hour daily program was ushered in
with these words:
"This is your old wheelchair disc jockey again, you
gimped-up old goldbricks."
These words, his listeners came to know, were the
signal for casual chatter about different patients, news
of hospital doings and long (Continued on page 97)
47
ILL
Bernard Estrin hag come a long, long way . . . through a dark country for which there were no maps
BERNARD ESTRIN, our Traveler of the Month, really
had come a long way when I met him — all the way
from self-pity and despair to a brave, hopeful future.
In miles, it wasn't far— just from St. Louis to Chicago.
But he traveled those miles in a wheel chair, and brought
to all of us at Welcome Travelers a rare story of courage
..rid spirit.
It's the story of a young Navy veteran who, when
stricken with polio at the age of 27, forgot his own pain
and paralysis by becoming the "wheelchair disc jockey"
foi -ill the other wounded, sick men at the Veterans Hos-
pital, Jefferson Barracks, in St. Louis. Happily, it's also
the story of a person who found a new life for himself,
a promising new career, while trying to bring a little
diversion into the bed-ridden lives of his fellow patients.
You see, Bernard Estrin, the hospital disc jockey, now
plans to go into radio. In a sense, his appearance on
Welcome Travelers was his real radio debut. The few
moments that he chatted with me before our ABC micro-
phone had all of the drama and excitement of a first night
on Broadway.
You have to hear the whole story, however, to appre-
ciate the significance of those few moments. So let me
recall that story for you now, and show you how far our
Traveler of the Month has traveled.
Bernard, a clean-cut, well-built young man, grew up
right in Chicago — the city from which Welcome Travelers
is broadcast. He was graduated from high school and
then, like millions of other boys, looked For his first job.
Because he loved airplanes, he hung around Chicago's
airports — just another nice kid with sky fever, another
boy who wanted wings.
He got the first feather in those wings washing dishes
at an airport restaurant. A little later, he worked for
TWA us a cargo handler. Then, only 19 years old, he got
By
TOMMY
BARTLETT
M .< :. of Woloom* Tra*«l-
rri, h«wd Mon.-Krl. «t
II n.k.m, BSTtvm IBG
p
a good job: he became a passenger agent for TWA.
The world was a wonderful place for that boy of 19.
He was making lots of money, bringing Mom little pres-
ents on pay nights and taking out a flock of pretty girls.
It was a world in which sickness was only a word, in
which no one stood still. It was a world which came to
an end with the war, a world which, for Bernard Estrin,
at least, will never again exist.
At 19, he went into the Navy. He got to be a Specialist.
First Class, a weight computer for an Air Transport
Squadron. For three-and-one-half years, he was in the
Pacific. Not the glory stuff, you understand, just heat
and work, just sweating it out, and occasionally ducking
for a fox hole when the Jap bombers came over. And all
the time, of course, he was thinking about his job back
with TWA.
At last, the day came: December 23, 1945. He was a
civilian again. His family had moved to St. Louis, and
Bernard became a TWA passenger agent in that city.
He was young and doing well, and each new morning
had a bright and special shine.
Then, in August, 1946, he came down with polio. Just
like that. Fourteen days of pain, fog and fever in a
hospital isolation ward, with time only to suffer, and no
time to think. After that, the Veterans Hospital, with
nothing but time. Time to think, time to suffer, time
to think about suffering. As Bernard recalled to me:
"I'd just lie there and try to figure out why I was
being punished, why this awful thing had happened to
me. I couldn't move a muscle, then. I could only think. "
In time, with the fine treatments provided by the Vet-
erans Administration, Bernard began to reclaim a part
of his body. One hand worked well, the other, pretty
well. The arms were coming along. The legs would mo.
when supported by braces.
"There were other boys with polio. A few died, and
the rest were like me. We were of all faiths and creeds,
and we all prayed. No one begrudged the other his
special faith. We couldn't afford the luxury of prejudice.
We just prayed."
Bernard tried to keep himself busy. With his stiff
hands, he tried to knit a cap for bis young nephew back
in Chicago. He tried writing letters. He tried. Slowly,
he was emerging from the worst despair of his illness.
As he said:
"One day, a boy with an incurable disease came and
sat by my bed. He was wonderfully cheerful, and told
me to buck up. For the very first time, I realized that
there were others who were even worse off than I was.
r
those provided by hi8 dauntl
Bernard Estrin's appearance
on Welcome Travelers was
a sort of debnl, for he
hopes lo embark on a
career as a radio disc jockey.
"So I took a big step forward, at least for me. I started
wondering rf, after all, there still could be some sort of.
useful life for me. I didn't know what it would be, but
aMeast my ,deas were beginning to go down a useful
|N the hospital there was a one-lung "radio network"
A patient acted as a disc jockey, and his patter and
mus.c were beamed into all of the wards. There are
tagger networks of course, but it's hard to imagine one
"n, m°TI falthfuI ]ist«"ng public. As Bernard joked:
uur radio station has a Hooper of 700-that's how
"any beds there are. But there's one thing you can bet
n we don t miss out on a single potential listener. They
(L , sten- """re's no place they can go."
One day, the boy who was acting as disc jockey became
Cf!> '° continue his work. The people in charge
in? lr around for a replacement. Bernard Estrin was
■nieuigent, a good talker and the possessor of an authori-
tative, pleasant voice. They offered him the job and he
snapped it up.
different. I had no idea how a disc jockey operate,! but
it was wonderful to think that I would be doing some-
thing again."
Bernard was nervous that first day, but he was a
definite hit. The patients liked his cheerful manner en-
joyed the way he kidded his own sickness and theirs by
referring to them as "sackhounds." They laughed at his
jokes and, overnight, Bernard was a celebrity in the
hospital.
After that, a two-hour daily program was ushered In
with these words:
"This is your old wheelchair disc jockey again, you
gimped-up old goldbricks."
These words, his listeners came to know, were the
signal for casual chatter about different patients, news
of hospital doings and long (Continued on page 87)
USTta COAST
Pretty Kyle MacDonnell waits for her cue
on Girl About Town, WNBT, Wed., 8 P.M.
Johnny Olsen, m.c, with Doorway to Fame's
producers, Geo. Sheck (1), Lou Dahlman.
Back from France,
WABD's Sylvie Si
Clair, and Pat Roc.
Spotlighted by NBC Television Newsreel were screen star Joan CaulfieJd and
fellow guests at the cartoon exhibit held recently at Town Hall, New York.
THE poor, long-suffering commercial, which has come in for so
much abuse in radio, finds itself very popular with television
fans. In every poll of televiewers, a large percentage mention
that they actually enjoy the visual sales talks. Credit goes to
the ad agencies which are turning out so many really clever
commercials.'
* * *
Texas will have a five-station television network in the not-
too-distant future- The Texas Telenet System, Inc., has filed
applications for Fort Worth, Waco, Austin, San Antonio, and
Corpus Christi. One of the big stockholders in Telenet is Gov-
ernor Beauford Jester himself!
* * *
Television clauses are being inserted into the contracts of all
movie, radio, and stage personalities. Although video still does
not pay anywhere near the large fees that talent has come to
expect from the other media, producers and managers consider
it all-important as a showcase and experience for their stars.
* * *
Chicago televiewers,, who have been seeing the home games
of Notre Dame, Illinois, and Purdue this (Continued on page 87)
Grand opening: Mutual-Don Lee's $3,000,000
radio-television building, in Hollywood.
TSO
<
y^ .>l-tAOi \ STING V, STtM
w t
1 \BfrU,
1
UJIi
^ . . HI
RADIO
MIRROR
^■a
is seen and heard on
WABD's The Alan Dale
Show on Tuesdays from
7 to 7:15 P.M. This
.program has a musical
format with songs pro-
vided by Alan and
Janie Ford, and com-
edy interspersed with
guests.
Alan, a product of
Brooklyn where he
was born on July 9,
1925, went to Lafay-
ette High and has
lived in Brooklyn ever since. His father was a
comedian and played the vaudeville circuits in
various parts of the country. As far as vocal
coaching is concerned, Alan has had very little.
He comes by his singing as easily and naturally
as he grins.
Alan's career started in an unusual manner.
While strolling down the boardwalk at Coney
Island with a friend they passed an open air cafe
where they saw a young girl struggling to sing
along with the band. His friend dared Alan to
go up and apply for a job as the singer. Alan
took the dare, got the job, and has been singing
ever since. It didn't take long for his reputation
to spread. He was soon signed up by Carmen
Cavallaro, and later by George Paxton. In 1947
he started out on his own as a singer.
is the only regular
member of the panel
of experts on Amer-
icana, television quiz
show on WNBT and
the NBC video net-
work, Mondays at
8:30 P.M.
Vivian, only 17, al-
ready a most accom-
plished . young lady.
She was born and
lives in the Bronx,
N. Y., and she is brainy as well as good to look
at. She has actually turned down motion pic-
ture contracts in order to study for a law degree,
at Fordham University, and someday be elected
to Congress!
Last June, Vivian graduated from St. Barnabas
High where she was the president of the Debat-
ing Society and where she received degrees in
merit, honor and excellence. And to top this,
she recently won the city-wide oratorical contest
for high school students in New York, then
placed second in the finals — which were open to
every eligible high school student in the United
States. Although she has been getting marks of
90 or better all her school days, Vivian is not a
bookworm, She has appeared as a pianist in
school concerts, served on the Year Book and
the school paper. She enjoys dancing, swimming,
and horseback riding. Add to all this the fact
that she is also an excellent cook, and you must
agree that Vivian should certainly be an inspira-
tion to young televiewers.
J^wj^ gP&t/u&A
who is Jennifer Allen
in Barney Blake, Po-
lice Reporter, Thurs.,
9:30 P.M. on WNBT,
like her co-star, Gene
O'Donnell, was born in Eagle Grove, Iowa.
Member of a family comprised mostly of
lawyers and teachers, Judy showed a talent for
the stage, and following her graduation from
Prairie du Chien, Wis., she entered the Amer-
ican Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York.
She made her theatrical debut in "Stage Door."
Later, while appearing "in "Kiss and Tell" she
eloped with another member of the cast, John
Harvey. They went to Hollywood, where Judy
retired to become a mother and raise daughter
Jody. In her spare time she helped run an
interior decorating firm. But the fascination of
the stage was too strong and it wasn't long be-
fore she came out of retirement to appear in the
Chicago production of "Dream Girl" and even-
tually, her present role as Jennifer Allen.
£cAn £ft//ma*i
has been hiding his
attractive features be-
hind a microphone for
some fourteen years,
but now he is seen as
well as heard as star
master of ceremonies
for New York Daily
News' television sta-
tion, WPIX.
John really isn't new
to television; he's one
of the very few people
to have been televised in color. He has been
the master of ceremonies for thirty CBS color
demonstrations which were, of course, never
shown to the public, ' since color will not be
permitted on television for some time.
When John was sixteen years old, he decided
that radio was for him. And so, enrolling as a
student at Emory University at Atlanta, Georgia,
he registered for all the courses related to the
field of radio. After graduation, he got himself
a job as announcer on WSB in that city. He was
on their staff for four years. Then the program
director of WHAS, Louisville, Kentucky, signed
him as Director of Public Affairs (his college
major, incidentally) and Special Events.
In 1939 he sent an audition record to CBS in
New York and, shortly after, much to his amaze-
ment, was asked to follow the recording in per-
son. His appearance must have been favorable;
he was added to the CBS announcing staff nine
years ago. You probably have heard him on the
popular band show Matinee at Meadowbrook,
and as announcer of Time to Remember, School
of the Air, and the Stradivari Orchestra.
Now you can watch boyish-looking Tillman as
he presents Gloria Swanson on her regular video
show, as he masters the ceremonies for The Song
Shop, and as newscaster on WPIX.
His only hobby is his twenty-months-old son,
John Stephen Tillman III. John met his talented
and charming wife, Patricia, when she was
writing scripts at CBS.
ELEVISION SECTION
49
7 to COAST
Prelly Kyle MacDonnell wails for her cue
on Girl About Town. WNBT, Wed., 8 P.M.
Jobnny Olsen, m.c, with Doorway to Fan
producers, Geo. Sheck (1), Lou Dablm
Back from Fran
WABD's Sylvie S^^>
Clair, and Pol Rrjf
Spotlighted by NBC Television Newsreel were screen star Joan Caulfield and
fellow guests at the cartoon exhibit held recently at Town Hall, New York.
THE poor, long-suffering commercial, which has come in for so
much abuse in radio, finds itself very popular with television
fans. In every poll of televiewers, a large percentage mention
that they actually enjoy the visual sales talks. Credit goes to
the ad agencies which are turning out so many really clever
commercials. '
Texas will have a five-station television network in the not-
too-distant future. The Texas Telenet System, Inc., has filed
applications for Fort Worth, Waco, Austin, San Antonio, and
Corpus Christi. One of the big stockholders in Telenet is Gov-
ernor Beauford Jester himself!
Television clauses are being inserted into the contracts of all
movie, radio, and stage personalities. Although video still does
not pay anywhere near the large fees that talent has come to
expect from the other media, producers and managers consider
it all-important as a showcase and experience for their stars.
Chicago televiewers, who have been seeing the home garnes
of Notre Dame, Illinois, and Purdue this (Continued on page 87)
Grand opening: Mutual-Don Lee's $3,000,000
radio-television building, in Hollywood.
m
■ 'J/an Ql„/e
wfffr". SJd heard on
WABD'sThe Alan Dale
Show on Tuesdays from
^ 7 to 7:15 P.M. This
w program has a musical
, ' format with songs pro-
vided by Alan and
Janie Ford, and com-
edy interspersed with
guests.
Alan, a product of
Brooklyn where he
was born on July 9,
1925, went to Lafay-
lived in Brooklyn ever since Hi!?Li,and has
comedian and played the vaudevllSdrcuTtfin
various parts of the country. As far as voca^
H»C,nm! V™.«»«><i, Alan has had very HUle
fs heTfnsy S S'nglng " easil* and "Orally
along with the band. His friend dgaredgA?antf
f° ^™a apply ,or a S°° as the singer Alan
took the dare, got the job, and has been sin^ine
to%£Ed • Hedwn,t take l0ng *? hi "~on
to spread. He was soon signed up by Carmen
S^I^h' a"? lateur by Geor8e paxton. Inl947
he started out on his own as a singer.
'I'iviaii Sfevtaei
is the only regular
member of the panel
of experts on Amer-
icana, television quiz
show on WNBT and
the NBC video net-
work, Mondays at
8:30 P.M.
Vivian, only 17, al-
ready a most accom-
plished . young lady.
She was born and
lives in the Bronx,
N. Y., and she is brainy as well as good to look
at. She has actually turned down motion pic-
ture contracts in order to study for a law degree,
at Fordham University, and someday be elected
to Congress!
Last June, Vivian graduated from St. Barnabas
High where she was the president of the Debat-
ing Society and where she received degrees in
merit, honor and excellence. And to top this,
she recently won the city-wide oratorical contest
for high school students in New York, then
placed second in the finals — which were open to
every eligible high school student in the United
States. Although she has been getting marks of
90 or better all her school days, Vivian is not a
bookworm, She has appeared as a pianist in
school concerts, served on the Year Book and
the school paper. She enjoys dancing, swimming,
and horseback riding. Add to all this the fact
that she is also an excellent cook, and you must
agree that Vivian should certainly be an inspira-
tion to young televiewers.
SION SECTION
who is Jennifer Allen
in Barney Blake, Po-
lice Reporter, Thurs.,
9:30 P.M. on WNBT,
like her co-star, Gene
° Pon"fll. was born in Eagle Grove, Iowa
Member of a family comprised mostly of
lawyers and teachers, Judy showed a talent for
the stage, and following her graduation from
Prairie du Chien, Wis., she entered the Amer-
ican Academy of Dramatic Arts in New York
bhe made her theatrical debut in "Stage Door "
Later while appearing in "Kiss and Tell" she
eloped with another member of the cast. John
Harvey. They went to Hollywood, where Judy
retired to become a mother and raise daughter
Jody. In her spare time she helped run an
interior decorating firm. But the fascination of
the stage was too strong and it wasn't long be-
lore she came out of retirement to appear in the
Chicago production of "Dream Girl" and even-
tually, her present role as Jennifer Allen
has been hiding his
attractive features be-
hind a microphone for
some fourteen years,
but now he is seen as
well as heard as star
master of ceremonies
for New York Daily
News' television sta-
tion, WP1X.
John really isn't new
to television; he's one
of the very few people
to have been televised in color. He has been
the master of ceremonies for thirty CBS color
demonstrations which were, of course, never
shown to the public, ' since color will not be
permitted on television for some time.
When John was sixteen years old, he decided
that radio was for him. And so, enrolling as a
student at Emory University at Atlanta, Georgia,
he registered for all the courses related to the
field of radio. After graduation, he got himself
a job as announcer on WSB in that city. He was
on their staff for four years. Then the program
director of WHAS, Louisville, Kentucky, signed
him as Director of Public Affairs (his college
major, incidentally) and Special Events.
In 1939 he sent an audition record to CBS in
New York and, shortly after, much to his amaze-
ment, was asked to follow the recording in per-
son. His appearance must have been favorable:
he was added to the CBS announcing staff nine
years ago. You probably have heard him on tin-
popular band show Matinee at Meadowbrook,
and as announcer of Time to Remember, School
of the Air, and the Stradivari Orchestra.
Now you can watch boyish-looking Tillman as
he presents Gloria Swanson on her regular video
show, as he masters the ceremonies for The Song
Shop, and as newscaster on WPIX.
His only hobby is his twenty-months-old son,
John Stephen Tillman III. John met his talented
and charming wife, Patricia, when she was
writing scripts at CBS.
Glimpsed at left and below are Mary
Kay and Johnny, or Mr. and Mrs.
Stearns, enacting scenes of cozy do-
mesticity on their WNBT television
program, Sundays, 7 to 7:20 P.M. EST.
JOHN A. STEARNS, of Boston, Massachusetts,
and Mary Kay Jones, of Los Angeles, California,
both grew up loving acting more than anything
else in the world — until they met each other. Now
acting comes second, but it's a very active and
exciting second!
That they should ever meet, marry, and become
Mary Kay and Johnny, television's first husband
and wife serial, is a triumph of circumstances;
because when Mary Kay, in Los Angeles, decided
she was ready for serious acting, she rushed to
New York. When Johnny, in the East, finished
college, he rushed for Hollywood!
To start at the beginning, Johnny comes from a
family that has always been interested in the
theater. They at one time owned what is now the
Shubert Theater in Boston. In fact it was the sale
of that theater to the Shuberts that gave the family
a life pass to all Shubert theaters, so while still
in grammar school young Johnny went every
Saturday afternoon to see a play or musical which
he thoroughly enjoyed, (Continued on page 84)
50
RADIO MIRROR
Ed Sullivan, who makes both per-
formers and audience "glad they
came," is the master of ceremonies.
One of the reasons the show is a hit: its
musical director is Ray Bloch (above,
left, studying a score with Sullivan)
ONE of the most exciting things about television
is that it can bring into your home those per-
sonalities and specialty acts which most of us
would just hear and read about but never get to
see. Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town is an out-
standing example of this. Each Sunday, at 9:30
P.M., Ed brings the fabulous entertainers to the
video cameras to offer a show that probably could
never be assembled on any stage.
Ed is a natural to be M.C.-producer for this
show as he has been as active in show business as
in the newspaper business. Not only is he famous
for his column, "Little Old New York," but he
is equally well-known for his "Dawn Patrol"
revues.
Attending a rehearsal of the show is quite an
experience . . . They rehearse on Fridays from
2:30 to 4:30 and again on Sunday from 2:30 right
up to show time. Television demands perfection
and that kind of rehearsal time bears out that fact,
to the satisfaction of the televiewers and the
sponsors alike!
TELEVISION
SECTION
51
■»m
A
*V
Glimpsed at left and Mow are Mary
Kay and Johnny, or Mr. and Mrs.
Steams, enacting scenes of cozy do-
mesticity on their WNBT television
program, Snndays, 7.0 7:20 P.M. EST.
Ed Sulli
fan, who makes both per*
formers
and audience "glad they
came," h
the master of ceremonies.
>
-t>C
JOHN A STEARNS, of Boston, Massachusetts,
and Mary Kay Jones, of Los Angeles, California,
both grew up loving acting more than anything
else in the world-until they met each other. Now
acting comes second, but it's a very active and
exciting second! u„.™»
That they should ever meet, marry and become
Mary Kay and Johnny, television's first husband
and wife serial, is a triumph of circumstances;
because when Mary Kay, in Los Angeles, decided
she was ready for serious acting, she rushed to
New York. When Johnny, in the East, finished
college, he rushed for Hollywood!
To start at the beginning, Johnny comes from a
family that has always been interested in the
theater They at one time owned what is now the
Shubert Theater in Boston. In fact it was the sale
of that theater to the Shuberts that gave the family
a life pass to all Shubert theaters, so while still
in grammar school young Johnny went every
Saturday afternoon to see a play or musical which
he thoroughly enjoyed, (Continued on page 84)
K"\
ONE of the most exciting things about television
is that it can bring into your home those per-
sonalities and specialty acts which most of us
would just hear and read about but never get to
see. Ed Sullivan's Toast of the Town is an out-
standing example of this. Each Sunday, at 9:30
P.M., Ed brings the fabulous entertainers to the
video cameras to offer a show that probably could
never be assembled on any stage.
Ed is a natural to be M.C.-producer for this
show as he has been as active in show business as
in the newspaper business. Not only is he famous
for his column, "Little Old New York," but he
is equally well-known for his "Dawn Patrol1'
revues.
Attending a. rehearsal of the show is quite an
experience . . . They rehearse on Fridays from
2:30 to 4:30 and again on Sunday from 2:30 right
Up to show time. Television demands perfection
and that kind of rehearsal time bears out that fact,
to the satisfaction of the televiewers and the
sponsors alike!
One of the reasonB the show is a hit: its
musical director is Roy Bloch (above,
left, studying a score with Sullivan)
radio MIRR°R Television section
■f Ml
Unusual girls, the Whitings — being sisters doesn't prevent them from pointing with pride to each other
?
By Barbara
kJ)OWZ
nm
By Margaret
ANYONE who is a regular listener to the Junior
Miss program every Saturday morning at 11:30
A.M. EST over CBS, has the right to wonder if
any of the mad situations in the serial have been
suggested by my own life and that of the Whiting
household.
The answer is no. Life in our family is too fantastic
to serve as radio material because no audience would
ever believe the things that actually occur. Thinking
it over, I am not certain whether my sister Margaret
or my mother, whom we usually call Eleanor, is the
chief instigator of our family excitement. However,
they are so much alike that to talk about one is to
talk about both, so I might as well discuss Margaret.
Some of my girl friends are not sold on the institu-
tion of the Older Sister, but I personally am a booster.
Probably that is because I happened to inherit such
a nice example..
At the present time the thing I most admire about
Margaret is her poise. Mother says poise comes from
sincerity just as currency comes from a bank, but all
I can say to that is that I'm broke in both respects,. I
certainly would like to have Margaret's savoir faire
(French for know-how) in awkward situations,
which brings me back to our crazy household.
Margaret, wearing yellow silk pajamas and white
wool mules, was combing her hair one recent morning
when a timid knock tickled the panel of her bedroom
door.
"Come in," said Margaret, amazed at this formality.
In strolled a perfectly strange little boy of five or
six. Pixies, yet! Imagine — in our house at ten-thirty
in the morning.
"Hello," said Margaret. "How are you today?"
The little boy said he was fine, that it was a nice
morning, and that he had found the front door open
so had decided to get acquainted. "My mother says
she is dying to know what Margaret Whiting looks
like," he confided. "Do you know if she lives here?"
Margaret introduced herself. The little boy studied
her for several moments, shook his head seriously,
and strolled away.
Here is the tag: Margaret (Continued on page 89)
WHEN I was in New York recently I received a
birthday greeting which read, "Happiest Birthday
and hurry home to the monster."
This could have come from only one source: my
younger sister, Barbara. I almost referred to her as
my "teen-age" sister, Barbara, but recovered myself
in time.
Barbara has an aversion to being referred to as a
"teen-ager." She would prefer to be called Monster,
Square, or Repulsive. Frankly, I think she has a
point. The sensible way in which she explains her
attitude is not only a revelation of her own personal-
ity, but illuminates the attitudes of a great many
people who are . . . er . . . teen-agers.
First of all, Barbara wants to know how people out
of their teens would like to be called "Twentiers" or
"Thirtiers" or "Fortiers." The suggestion in constant
use of the word "teen-agers" is that all of them can
be categorized; that everyone between ten and
twenty can be fitted into a pattern. This is obviously
as absurd as saying that everyone between the ages
of thirty and forty can be pigeon-holed.
Barbara and her friends want desperately to be re-
garded as human beings, single individuals, and not
as members of an age category.
They are even more bitter about the label "bobby-
soxers." They believe that the term is slighting and
has reference to a certain hysteria which most fans
have been careful to avoid. They point out that every
girl or woman who wears slacks, pedal-pushers, clam-
diggers, or even chintz morning housecoats, wears
bobby sox. Bobby sox are garments, not the badge
of a state of mind.
Occasionally when Barbara has given an evening
get-together for her friends, I have had the fun of
joining in. The conversation is enlightening and
should be overheard by those who insist that today's
youth is empty-headed, selfish, and ill-prepared for
life. Personally I don't think anyone of any age is
well-prepared for what the next ten years may
bring, so I think it's absurd to single out one par-
ticular age group and accuse it of superficiality.
However, Barbara's friends (Continued on page 88)
Margaret Whiting sings on Club 15, Mon.-Fri., 7:30 P.M. EST, CBS. Barbara Whiting is Junior Miss, Saturdays, 11:30 A.M. EST, on CBS.
52
Barbara (left), and Margaret— different personalities, different talents, but one big thing in common: they know how to get along with each other.
Barbara: "Poise, that's, what ray sister Margaret has so much of." Margaret: "Not only is Barbara a comedienne, but can she sing!"
4
Jtm
zJ/wouaA trw ueaitt with
DAVID HABUM
1. Years ago, David Harum opened his home
to his sister Polly, whose marriage to James
Benson had broken up when she learned he
was a swindler. With the police on his trail,
Benson deserted Polly. David hastened to his
sister and brought her back to Homeville — to
a happier, less lonely life for both of them.
IN Radio Mirror's review of the
story of David Harum, you
see the program's stars playing
their parts just as they do on
the air.
David Harum is played by
Cameron Prud'homme
Aunt Polly Benson Charme Allen
Brian Wells Kenneth William*
Susan Wells Gertrude Warner
Zeke Swinney Arthur Maitland
Mark Carter Paul Ford
David Harum, a radio dramati-
zation of the novel by Edward
Noyes Westcott, is produced by
Frank and Anne Hummert and is
heard Mon.-Fri., 3 P.M. EST, CBS.
Radio Mirror retells
the story of Homeville's most
beloved citizen, who is also
one of radio's most beloved characters
2. As president of the Homeville Bank,
David holds an important position in town
affairs. It is not his prestige, however, but
his generous, humanity-loving personality
that makes his fellow-townsmen turn to him
with affection. He is so ready to hear other
folks' troubles that his secretary, Miss
Wayne, must often intervene to prevent his
wasting time which is valuable to the Bank.
i-*"*-
,rt-
!
With Aunt Polly in charge of domestic arrangements, David Harnm always knows
that the .big white house on Catalpa Street will offer him peace and relaxation
when he gets home in the evening. So, no matter how hard a day he has had in his
presidential duties at the Homeville Bank, he keeps at the back of his mind the
picture of how comfortable home will be when he gets there . . . with one of Aunt
Polly's perfect dinners followed by a quiet cup of coffee before the friendly fire.
THROUGH THE YEAR
4. The best friends David and Aunt Polly have i\re Brian
and Susan Wells, a young couple with "ink in their veins."
They own, edit and love the Homeville Bugle, which fills a
place in their lives second only to that occupied by their
beloved five-year-old Davey. Davey is also a great favorite
with his doting, gift-bringing godfather, David Harum.
5. Mrs. Waters, superintendent of the Homeville or-
phanage, is another of David's friends. David serves,
without pay, as Chairman of the home's board of
Directors, and Mrs. Waters knows he can always be
counted on to provide advice, financial help, or a day
of fun for the children, all of whom he deeply loves.
8. Confident that he had duped David, Zeke enlisted his
old' erony-in-crime, Mark Carter, in his plan to oust David
from the Bank and obtain the Presidency for himself.
Mark, a lawyer of shady reputation and weak character, was
somewhat afraid of David, but finally let himself be per-
suaded to help Zeke. Together, they concocted their plan.
56
9. First, they started a whispering campaign to dis-
credit David's methods of running the Bank as out-
moded. Then, Zeke bribed his way into the Bank
one night, disconnected the burglar alarm and set
the stage for a holdup which he had persuaded a
young criminal to stage. But, fortunately . . .
TH DAVID HARUM
5*w.n
6. One day, trouble appeared at the Wells borne in
the form of Zeke Swinney, a scoundrelly old enemy of
David's, long missing from Homeville. Zeke is actually
Brian's father, but his crooked, shady dealings so hu-
miliated Brian that the young man repudiated his
father and changed his name and his family's to Wells.
7. Crafty Zeke visited David, pretending to be friendly.
David tried to forget that this man had caused so much
misery in Homeville years before, but in spite of himself
he' could not altogether control his suspicions of Zeke.
And these suspicions were more than justified, for Zeke
was planning to enrich himself at David Harum's expense.
10. . . . David had discovered the scheme in time to
prevent any actual damage being done. The next day,
at a Board of Directors meeting, David exposed
Zeke and won a vote of confidence. His position as
president again secure, David and Aunt Polly en-
joyed the congratulatory messages of their friends.
11. Aunt Polly never cooked a better dinner than the one
she prepared to celebrate David's escape from Zeke. Susan
and Brian shared it, and the party was gay in spite of
Brian's disgust with his rascally father. The trouble ap-
peared to be over; none of them suspected that the future
might hold even greater threats to David Harum's happiness.
57
THROUGH THE YEARJjTH DAVID HARUM
4. The belt friends David and Aunl Polly have are Brian
and Su.an Wells, a young eouple with "ink in their veins."
They own, edit and love the Homeville Bugle, which fills a
place in their lives second only to that occupied by their
beloved five-year-old Davey. Davey is also a great favorite
with his doting, gift-bringing godfather, David riorum.
5. Mrs. "Waters, superintendent of the Homeville or-
phanage, iB another of David's friends. David serves,
without pay, as Chairman of the home's board of
Directors, and Mrs. Waters knows he con always be
counted on to provide advice, financial help, or a day
of fun for the children, all of whom he deeply loves.
6. One day, trouble appeared at the Wells home in
the form of Zeke Swinney, a scoundrelly old enemy of
David's, long missing from Homeville. Zeke is actually
Brian's father, but his crooked, shady dealings so hu-
miliated Brian that the young man repudiated his
father and changed his name and his family's to Welle.
7. Crafty Zeke visited David, pretending to be friendly.
David tried to forget that this man had caused so much
misery in Homeville years before, but in spile of himself
he could not altogether control his suspicions of Zeke.
And these suspicions were more than justified, for Zeke
was planning to enrich himself at David Harum's expense.
8. Confident that he hod duped David, Zeke enlisted his
old-erony-in-crime, Mark Carter, in his plan to oust David
from the Bonk and obtain the Presidency for himself.
Mark, a lawyer of shady reputation and weak character, wob
loihewhul afraid of David, but finally let himself be per-
suaded to help Zekt. Together, they concocted their plnn.
56
9. First, they started a whispering campaign to dis-
credit David's methods of running the Bank as out-
moded. Then, Zeke bribed his way into the Bank
one night, disconnected the burglar alarm and Bet
the stage for a holdup which he had persuaded a
young criminal to stage. But, fortunately . . ■
10. . . , David had discovered the scheme in time to
prevent any actual damage being done. The next day,
at a Board of Directors meeting, David exposed
Zeke and won a vote of confidence. His position as
president again secure, David and Aunt Polly en-
joyed the congratulatory messages of their friends.
11. Aunt Polly never cooked a better dinner than the one
she prepared to celebrate David's escape from Zeke. Susan
and Brian shared it, and the party was gay in spite of
Brian's disgust with bis rascally father. The trouble ap-
peared to be over; none of them suspected that the future
might hold even greater threats to David Harum's happiness.
57
and^
Never was a girl asked to take on a stranger family. And never was
a family more fun than the ready-made one that came with Edgar Bergen
Only Mortimer Snerd
is missing from the
family portrait at the
left, with Candy on
her mother's lap, and
Charlie in his usual
place on Bergen's.
By FRANCES BERGEN
IT might make a better story if I could say that when mutual friends introduced
Edgar and me in 1942 it was love at first sight for both of us. But it wasn't
that way at all. I thought he was "nice." He thought I was "a good kid." We
made a date for the next day, and it turned out to be somewhat of a "blind date"
for me — because. I discovered we were going flying in his Fairchild. I rose to the
occasion — but literally! — by pretending I had been up before and that I loved it.
But as soon as we landed I lost my lunch. Since then I have learned to fly a
plane myself and really love flying.
We knew each other three years before we were married, but were engaged
only a couple of months. Then, one day, we avoided publicity by going down to
Mexico and getting married secretly, with only two Mexicans as witnesses. We
had a honeymoon at Lake Arrowhead. I'm just as sentimental about my wedding
as if it had been more formal. I've kept the dress I was married in and have
pressed the flowers from my bouquet.
When the news got out, interviewers asked if EB had given me a wedding
present and if I had given him one.
"Yes," I told them. "Undying devotion."
People were curious to know if Charlie approved our marriage. I think they
really believed he might be upset. Some insisted Charlie did the talking for
Edgar when he proposed. Others worried about how I'd feel toward Charlie.
They needn't have. I couldn't be more pleased at playing "stepmama" to the
little rascal. And that includes Charlie's country cousin, Mortimer Snerd —
although Charlie holds a slight edge over Mort in my affections. I guess it's
because I've been around him more. We even do a skit together, "The Operation,"
in which Charles plays the patient, I'm the nurse, and EB is the doctor.
But Mort is so pathetic — you can't help but love him.
Our two-year- old Candice, adores them both, impartially. Candy runs to
Charlie, grabs his hands and says, "How do, Larlie." Then she hugs Mortimer
"Nerds." We are not quite sure whether she thinks they're humans or dolls, but
we are sure we'll have some explaining to do when she gets older.
If Candy believes the boys are real she isn't very different from older and so-
called wiser folks who are around them a great deal. I have heard people call out
greetings to Charlie as he sat, limp and mute, waiting for Edgar to administer
the adrenalin. Masters of ceremonies have introduced the act as "Char he Mc-
Carthy, assisted by Edgar Bergen." A little girl once asked Edgar, "Is Charlie
really your boy?" He answered, seriously, "He's my boy, by adoption," and she
believed it. So does he, I'm sure.
In August we came back from a ten-week European trip, most of which was
spent in Sweden, where Edgar's parents were born. Edgar, of course, is an
American, born on February 16 of a Chicago winter. He hadn't been in Sweden
since 1937, though he lived there a year as a boy. What started out as a combina-
tion Bergen Pleasure Trip and McCarthy Good-Will Junket, with time out for the
movies Edgar makes on every trip, ended up as a Triumphal Technicolor Tour.
EB had decided, before we left, that he would do a (Continued on page 95)
:
Edgar Bergen brings Charlie McCarthy and Mortimer Snerd to the air Sundays at 8 P.M. EST, on NBC.
59
Never wa« a girl asked to take on a stranger family. And never was
a family more fun than the ready-made one that came with Edgar Bergen
Only Mortimer Snerd
is missing from the
family portrait at the
left, with Candy on
her mother's lap, and
Charlie in his usual
place on Bergen's.
By FRANCES BERGEN
I lSS a^me in 194^ " C°U,d T tha' whe" mulual f"cnds »»trodu«d
made a date for L ™ , A " ?" We He thought ' was "a 8°°d kid " w<"
fTmi-b~^H J 2i' Dnd " ,U™d °Ul '° be «»»ewl«at of a 'blind date"
occaT^n-butTti, , °Vt,ed WC T* g°ing flyin« ta his F«irchild ' «™ to the
But aS^on LUt"aVy!7byIPretending ' had been "P betore and *»' I '°ved It
nl»n. V j uded ! l0St my lunch Since the" ' h»ve loaned <« "V »
plane myself and really love flying. u> ny a
We knew each other three years before we were married, but were engaged
MexicoTnd /,t m0nlhS' T?en' °ne day' WC avoided Public',y by «•>"« S^nto
Mexico and gettmg married secretly, with only two Mexicans as wteuami W.
had a honeymoon at Lake Arrowhead. I'm just as sentimental about my weddinj
l^S « T* f0m,al- rve kept the dress ' was ™*«<* in and have
pressed the flowers from my bouquet
When the news got out, interviewers asked if EB had given me ■ wedding
present and if I had given him one.
"Yes," I told them. "Undying devotion."
People were curious to know if Charlie approved our marriage I think thev
really believed he might be upset. Some insisted Charlie did the talking f,„
fcdgar when he proposed. Others worried about how I'd feel toward Chai
They needn't have. I couldn't be more pleased at playing "stepmama" to lot
little rascal. And that includes Charlie's country cousin, Mortimer Sni i
although Charlie holds a slight edge over Mort in my affections. I gu<-
because I've been around him more. We even do a skit together. 'The Operatimi
in which Charles plays the patient, I'm the nurse, and EB is the doctor.
But Mort is so pathetic— you can't help but love him
Our two-year-old Candice. adores them both, impartially. Candy runs to
Charlie, grabs his hands and says, "How do, Larlie." Then she hugs M.m U
"Nerds." We are not quite sure whether she thinks they're humans or dolls, but
we are sure well have some explaining to do when she gets older
If Candy believes the boys are real she isn't very different from older and so-
called wiser folks who are around them a great deal. I have heard people call
greetings to Charlie as he sat, limp and mute, waiting for Edgar to admin
the adrenalin. Masters of ceremonies have introduced the act as "Charlie Mc-
Carthy, assisted by Edgar Bergen ." A little girl once asked Edgar, "Is Charlia
really your boy?" He answered, seriously, "He's my boy. by adoption," .ml
believed it. So does he, I'm sure.
In August we came back from a ten-week European trip, most of which was
spent in Sweden, where Edgar's parents were bom. Edgar, of course, is an
American, born on February 16 of a Chicago winter. He hadn't been in Sw
since 1937, though he lived there a year as a boy. What started out as a combina
tion Bergen Pleasure Trip and McCarthy Good-Will Junket, with time out for the
movies Edgar makes on every trip, ended up as a Triumphal Technicolor Tnur.
EB had decided, before we left, that he would do a (Continued on page 95)
Ed«.rB^«~ibrin«.a.«rll.Mc<Urthr-ndMortlm~Sn»>di.lh>«l. Su.<U,. U • T.M. m.»lliC.
LIKE A bowl of rubies, a shimmering bowl
of cranberry sauce brightens the table on
Thanksgiving Day. It's easy to make this
scarlet sauce stand high, wide and handsome
on a dish. After it's cooked, pour it into a
small bowl or mold and put it in the refrig-
erator to chill thoroughly. Just before serv-
ing, dunk the bowl nearly to its edge in hot
water for about 10 seconds — then upside
down on a platter.
When I was a little girl I watched my
mother prepare for dinner on this important
day. She used to let me help her "pull" the
bread for the stuffing. She didn't have a
cake rack in those days to rub the bread over
and get crumbs in a jiffy, like we do today,
but she had a way of baking squash which
Tve never forgotten. She took halves of
acorn squash or squares of hubbard squash
and baked them with the seeds left in. When
nearly done she'd take a spoon and scoop the
seeds out. It left the squash juicy and tender
on top. Sometimes she would sweeten it
with a golden syrup of brown sugar and but-
ter. Here are some of her favorite recipes.
You'll enjoy them any day of the year:
10-MINUTE CRANBERRY SAUCE
2 cups sugar 2 cups water
4 cups fresh cranberries
Combine sugar and water in a saucepan.
Stir until sugar is dissolved. Boil for. 5 min-
jUtes. Add cranberries and boil without stir-
ring until skins pop open (about 5 minutes).
Makes 1 quart sauce.
RELISH PLATE
Celery Curls: Cut washed and drained
By
KATE SMITH
Listen to Kate Smith
Speaks on stations of
the Mutual network,
Mon.-Kri. at 12 Noon-
Radio Mirror Food Counselor
celery into 3 inch lengths. Thinly slice down
celery to, but not through, the other end.
Place in ice water. Ends will curl.
Radish Roses: Wash radishes well. Cut
thin slices all the way 'round radish, starting
at stem end. Petals will form if peeling is
cut to 1/a inch of stem. Place in ice water
for petals to spread.
Carrot Curls: Cut large carrots in half
lengthwise. Slice cut side into paper thin
slices with potato peeler. Roll up and place
in ice water to curl.
ROAST TURKEY
Rinse cleaned dressed turkey well in cold
water inside and out. Rub inside with salt.
Lightly fill with stuffing. Truss and rub en-
tire surface of turkey with oil. Place on
rack. Cover breast and drumstick with
cheesecloth which has been dipped in melted
butter, margarine or shortening. Roast in
slow oven (300 to 325" F.). For a 10 to 16
pound bird allow (Continued on page 78)
jwze
RADIO MIRROR for BETTER LIVING
Jooum mew w, m new nu^wrndk
62
Another Woman is based on an incident from
the radio drama Portia Faces Life, and is
told for the first time in story form in Radio
Mirror's complete-in-this-isaue novelette.
Portia Faces Life is heard Monday through
Friday at 5:15 P.M. EST, on NBC stations
iwz, cmowu
tew ewman;
?
and Aw /hem^t — wewe ca^atd fo a&w
THE ENTIRE household— young
Dickie, and Miss Daisy, and Kathie
Campbell and Bill Baker, and Lilli
and Mark Randall — rode to the sta-
tion in Bill's car to see Portia off to
New York. Only Dickie's dog, Jug,
was missing, and that, as Miss Daisy
observed tartly, was less for lack of
room in the car than for the smell of
him, Jug having gone bathless too
long in these last crowded and cli-
mactic days.
They stood on the platform, wav-
ing and smiling as Portia entered the
train. Only this morning it had
seemed impossible that they would
all be together again. Mark had
faced conviction for the murder of
Bert Mason; Kathie had been held
captive by the real murderer's hired
thugs. Now they were free, and she
was free — to go to her husband,' to
Walter.
The wheels turned under her. The
faces full of love and smiles that
barely concealed deep fears for her,
slid past the window, out of sight.
Portia sighed and sank back upon
the seat of her compartment. She
was trembling. These last weeks had
been a strain — they'd been agony,
with half of her, the thinking and
doing half, in Parkerstown, fighting
to free Mark Randall, with the other
half, the loving and living half, in
New York with Walter, fighting —
what? She blinked, and stared
fixedly out the window.
It was just a year and a week since
she had sat at a train window, but
then Walter and Dickie had been
with her, and they had been on their
way home from Hollywood. She'd
watched hungrily for the old famil-
iar landmarks — the Windgate farm,
Lebanon Falls, the bend in the river
and the grove of Oak trees where she
had told Walter she would marry
him. Walter had cupped her face in
his two hands and had laughed at
her rapt expression.
"Just look at her!" he'd crowed.
"Her eyes are shining like a kid's on
Christmas morning. She's got what
Dickie calls the sparkly look."
"I feel sparkly," she'd answered.
"Oh, Walter, darling — I've waited a
whole lifetime for this. I was so
little when Mother died I don't even
remember her. And with Dad busy
in the store most of the time, it
wasn't home — ever. And when I
married Richard Blake — well, we
both know what that was like. Then
he died, and there was Dickie, and I
had to be both father and mother.
There just wasn't time to make a
real home — and besides, a real home
needs both a man and a woman. It
needs laughter and love and tender-
ness— and all the things we have,
Walter. And now we have it! Oh,
my darling, we're so lucky — "
"I am, anyway."
"I am," she'd insisted. "Just look
at my husband."
He'd sighed a little. "What I'd give
if he were just half as much as you
think he is!"
"He's a whole lot more than he
gives himself credit for being," she'd
retorted. "One of these days he's go-
ing to wake up and realize what a
grand guy he is."
"Crazy!"
She'd nodded. "Crazy in love with
you, you mean. Darling, I'm going
to make you so happy in Parkers-
town! I'm going to try to make the
kind of home that's gay and secure
and warm. I'm going to spoil you —
see that you always have clean shirts
and that your socks are mended
and—"
"How about my wooden hangers?"
"Under oath," she'd promised,
"there'll always be plenty of them in
your closet. Oh, my dearest, we
haven't done much living up until
now. But today is the beginning.
And it's something we can count on
not only next year but for all the
years after."
But somehow, it hadn't worked out
that way. In a year — less than a
year — Walter was gone, bitter and
angry and unable to understand why
she had to stay behind to help Mark
Randall. Of course, there was more
to it than the simple fact that she had
felt compelled to return to the prac-
tise of law for this one last case. It!
wasn't surprising that Walter Man-
ning, successful screen writer and
one-time ace newspaper correspond-
ent, should have been restless and
impatient with the quiet, slow-mov-
ing life of Parkerstown.
Other things were less explicable
to everyone but Portia: Walter's be-
ing unable to leave a dinner to come
to the telephone when Bill Baker
had called him long distance the
night Portia had been run down by
the very thugs who later kidnapped
Kathie; a picture run by the Parkers-
town Chronicle, rival paper to Bill
Baker's Herald, which showed Wal-
ter and the beautiful Leslie Palmer,
head of Advance Pictures' story de-
partment, "dancing and romancing"
as the caption below put it.
Portia remembered Leslie Palmer
and her infatuation with Walter.
That Leslie had answered the phone
the night Bill had called was enough
to convince Portia that Walter was
never told of the call; she was
equally sure that Leslie had caused
the damning picture to be run in the
Parkerstown paper.
But Bill was bitter, perhaps all the
more bitter and disillusioned because
Walter had been his great friend and
had even loaned Bill not many
months before, some fifteen thousand
dollars to save the Herald from be-
ing absorbed by Jess Ward, owner
of the Chronicle. With the rest of
Parkerstown, he believed that Wal-
ter had left Portia. He, and almost
everyone else, had tried to persuade
her not to go to New York. Only
Lilli and Kathie had encouraged her.
But now at last she was on her
way. She would be in New York in
the morning. She would be there in
time for the opening of his picture,
"Challenge." That had been the sore
point of their quarrel — that Portia,
Portia Manning . . .
played by Lucille Wall
Leslie Palmer . .
played by Louise Barclay
Walter Manning . . . played
by Bartlett Robinson
63
ANOTHER
WOMAN
after promising to give up law, had risked missing the
opening of his picture in order to stay in Parkerstown
to defend Mark Randall.
She forgot her weariness in the thought of what lay
ahead. She ran a comb through her hair, adjusted her
hat, made her way to the dining car.
"Three waiting ahead of you, Miss," the steward told
her. "If you care to wait in the club car, I'll call you."
She went on into the club car, where a porter gave her
a copy of the evening paper. She glanced idly at the
headlines, then let it fall in her lap as she sat dreamily
watching the landscape slide by. Presently a pleasant
masculine voice spoke at her elbow.
"I beg your pardon, but if you've finished with the
paper, may I — "
"Of course " She handed him the paper and smiled — a
mistake, because he chose to ignore the paper for conver-
sation. Portia would have much preferred to be left alone
with her thoughts of Walter; she was trying to think of
an out when her companion suddenly shook out the paper
and pointed to a headline. "This is what I mean," he said.
"For example — " And then his eye fell upon an item
farther down the page. "What's this about Walter Man-
ning?"
Portia sat bolt upright. "What?"
"Walter Manning," he read, "former ace correspondent,
leaves for the Near East on a special assignment for
Advance Studios — "
Leaves, thought Portia. Not is leaving —
does that mean he's going today? Without one
word to me — Frantically, she tried to read the
article over her companion's arm, but there
was little more in it, only that Walter was
going to Ankara, Turkey, by plane.
"He's certainly a crack correspondent," the
man said admiringly. "I read every word he
wrote during the war, and when he joined up
with the guerillas — Why, what's the matter?
Are you sick?"
Portia was standing, swaying, trying to
make her way past him. "I'm all right," she
said as he rose, "just — something I forgot I
had to do — " Somehow, she got away. She
blundered into the dining car steward and
murmured something about not wanting din-
ner after all; blindly she found her way back
to her compartment.
Leslie Palmer had done this — that was what she had to
believe. Leslie had given this story to the papers for the
same reason that she had released that picture of herself
and Walter. It wasn't true. Walter wouldn't go — surely
not without telling her. . . .
And yet . . . she kept remembering Walter's set, almost
desperate face the last day she had seen him. He'd stood
in the dining room doorway, saying, "You promised me
that under no condition would you ever go back to the
practise of law. There are other lawyers, and if Mark
Randall is innocent, he won't be convicted. You're my
wife, and I want you with me in New York. And if you
leave this house this morning to go to Mark Randall, to
tell him you'll stay in Parkerstown to defend him — well,
you may be doing something we'll regret all the rest of
our lives."
All the rest of our lives. She had thought at the time
that he was only bitterly hurt that she would risk missing
the opening of his picture, "Chal-
lenge." But had he had the pos-
sibility of something like this — this
assignment to Turkey — in mind
even then? And why had he been
unable to explain why it was so
desperately necessary that she be
with him? On the surface, it had
seemed that he was simply being
selfish — and Walter had never been
selfish. That he hadn't called or
written her since he left was a mat-
ter of pride — she had thought. But
was it something more? Had he
known when he spoke those words
that if he went to New York alone,
he wouldn't be coming back?
Kathie . . . played
by Rosaline Greene
Lilli . .
by Cora
Dickie . . . played
by Ed w in Bruce
She rang for the porter, wrote a
telegram. "Mr. Walter Manning — "
She didn't even know his address.
But Advance Pictures Studios
would do. "Arriving two-thirty
p.m. tomorrow Grand Central Sta-
tion. Please meet — " She crossed
out the last two words. Walter
would meet her if he knew she was
coming. She added, "I love you.
Portia."
She gave the porter the telegram,
and was promised that it would be
sent from the next stop. And then she went to bed and
slept the sleep of exhaustion and of simple faith. She'd
had little besides faith to carry her through the tight places
of Mark Randall's trial; she needed the same faith now to
believe that the story of Walter's going to the Near East
was a lie, to believe that he would be at the station when
her train pulled in the next day.
But he wasn't at the station. Her eyes searched the
crowd as she came up the ramp, and some of the crowd
stared back at the lovely, dark-eyed woman who was so
unaccountably alone . . . but there was no Walter. She
found a telephone, quickly, before fear and disappointment
and the feeling of being deserted and alone turned the
lump in her throat into tears.
Advance Pictures answered her dial prompt-
ly. "Mr. Manning?" the operator repeated.
"Well, ah—"
"It's very important," Portia interrupted.
"And if you'd be good enough to give me the
name of his hotel, I'd appreciate it."
"Who is calling, please?"
"This is his wife," she answered. "Mrs.
Manning."
The operator's voice chilled suddenly. "I'm
sorry," she said, "but Mr. Manning has left the
city."
"Left," Portia repeated in a voice tight with
panic. "For Ankara? When did he go?"
"I'm sorry, but we're not permitted to give
out that information."
There was a click, and the phone went dead
in her hand. Portia stared at it numbly; then
anger and suspicion drove out fear and hurt.
The operator's sudden freezing at being told
that Walter's wife was calling — it was a small thing, but
as strange in its way as the idea of Walter's leaving for
Turkey without a word to her. She dialed Advance Pic-
tures a second time.
"This is the Fifth Avenue Shop," she said in a high,
nasal voice. "May we speak with Miss Leslie Palmer?"
"I'm sorry," said the same operator, "but Miss Palmer
isn't in."
"Then," continued Portia, "perhaps you can help us.
She made some purchases here this morning but neglected
to give us the name of her hotel. Where shall we send the
package?"
"Miss Palmer," said the operator obligingly, "is staying
at the New Vanderbilt."
Portia thanked her in the name of the Fifth Avenue
Shop and hung up. Ten minutes later she was entering
the lobby of the New Vanderbilt.
"Mr. Manning?" the clerk said in answer to her question.
"He was registered here, Miss, but he's checked out."
"Checked out?" said Portia, trying hard to steady her
voice. "Are you sure?"
The clerk looked offended. "It's hardly something about
which I could be mistaken,"*he reminded her loftily.
She shook her head. "But — I mean — when?"
"He checked out at noon today," the clerk answered,
"and left instructions for his bags to be sent to the airport."
Black waves of faintness washed over her. She stared
at the clerk through a darkening haze, struggling to think.
Here, too, was something odd — another piece that didn't
fit. She was aware that the clerk was looking at her
anxiously.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "Are you ill? I can call the
house physician — "
"No." It was coming to her now. If Walter hadn't
checked out until noon, he'd surely received her wire.
. played
B. Smith
64
ANOTHER
WOMAN
Bill Baker . . . played
by Les Damon
"I wired Mr. Manning last night,"
she said. "He must have got it — "
"Oh, yes." The clerk nodded.
"I remember very well — a wire did
come for Mr. Manning last night,
addressed in care of Advance Pic-
tures and forwarded here. I gave
it to Miss Palmer myself."
"Miss Palmer!" exclaimed Portia.
"But it was addressed to Mr. Man-
ning!"
"But Mr. Manning was outside
taking care of the taxi," he ex-
plained. "And Miss Palmer said that she would give Mr.
Manning the wire."
"I see," said Portia, and wondered how she could for a
moment have failed to see the whole unpleasant little
plot. "Is Miss Palmer in her room? Never mind," she
added hastily as the clerk reached for the telephone. "I'll
call her myself, if you'll just tell me the number — ■"
Suite 14E. The maid answered, and the maid was
evasive. Miss Palmer wasn't in; the maid didn't know
when she would be back, didn't think that Miss Palmer
could be reached at the studio. The maid had been coached,
Portia decided, and refrained from leaving her own name.
She took a cab to Advance Pictures, and found that she
had missed Leslie by a matter of minutes. But she had
one bit of luck. The receptionist believed that
Miss Palmer was on her way to her hotel.
Portia went back to the New Vanderbilt and
called 14E a second time.
The maid answered the phone again. In
tones as carefully accurate as a phonograph
record she said, "I'm afraid Miss Palmer isn't
in, but if you'd like to leave your name, I'll
tell her you called when she comes back.
Aren't you the party that called before?"
Portia ignored the question. "Is Miss Palmer
expected back soon?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said the same care-
ful tones. "She didn't say where she was going
or what time she'd be back. But if you'll tell
me who's calling — "
"Thank you," said Portia, and hung up.
The maid was lying; Portia was sure of it
now. She'd been too long a lawyer not to have
a sharp ear for truth. Leslie must have read
her telegram; she must know that Portia had reached New
York this afternoon — and for some reason Leslie was
afraid to see her. And there could be only one good reason
why the clever, self-assured Leslie would go to such
lengths to avoid her — and the reason was that Walter must
be still in town, and Leslie didn't want Portia to know.
She took the elevator to the fourteenth floor, went down
the thickly carpeted corridor to the door marked E. And
there she had another piece of luck. As she approached,
a woman came out of the apartment, a plain woman in a
plain cloth coat, with the hem of a black sateen uniform
showing beneath the hem of the coat. The woman went
down the hall in the opposite direction without glancing at
Portia, and Portia guessed that Leslie was temporarily
maidless.
She went forward, rapped sharply on Leslie's door.
For a moment there was no sound then Leslie called out,
"I'm coming — I'm coming! You certainly weren't in any
hurry to get here. I just now sent my maid — "
She swung the door open impatiently in the midst of her
speech, and at first her eyes didn't focus upon Portia.
Then her face went queerly flat, as if a board had been
slammed into it. She made a convulsive, instinctive
movement to shut the door. Portia made an equally in-
stinctive movement to step inside.
"Hello, Leslie," she said easily.
Leslie gasped. "You!"
Portia nodded. "Yes. May I come in?"
Leslie was exquisite as always, in a champagne-colored
negligee that accented answering lights in her hair. But
for once Portia was treated to the spectacle of her stutter-
ing like a schoolgirl.
"Well — I — wasn't expecting — "
"I know you weren't expecting me," Portia agreed. "Or
perhaps I should say — you were hoping I wouldn't come."
Mark Ra
played by
"Well, really! I — " Then she deliberately raised her
voice. "I was expecting a package."
Portia stepped inside. "I want to talk to you, Leslie."
"Keep your voice down!" Leslie hissed. "Here — we
can talk in the bedroom." And again her voice rose. "I've
waited all afternoon for that package. Thank heaven,
it's finally come ! I'll take it into the bedroom."
Portia, bewildered by the play-acting, by being almost
forcibly thrust into Leslie's bedroom, was the more
shocked at the livid face Leslie turned to her as she shut
the bedroom door.
"How dare you come sneaking in like this?" she
snapped. "You were told when you called that I wasn't
in — "
"Which I knew wasn't true," Portia interrupted. "Your
office told me that you were on your way here."
"Who told you? Tyler? I'll have her job for that—"'
Portia blinked at the sight of Leslie livid with fury.
"Why are you afraid of me?" she asked. "Why have you
taken such precautions to avoid seeing me?"
"Afraid of you! Don't flatter yourself — " Then sud-
denly her manner changed completely, became almost
friendly. "I'm sorry, Portia. I didn't mean to blaze out
at you this way. It's just that — well — I'm hardly dressed
to receive company. And — I'm not alone."
"Not alone? But I saw your maid leave as I came in — "
And then she understood, and blushed deeply. "Oh, I
didn't realize — I didn't know— I'm sorry — "
"I'm sorry, too." Leslie's eyes narrowed
with derisive amusement. "Sorry that I
shocked you, Portia. And you are shocked,
aren't you?"
She was, less at the situation than at Leslie's
deliberately flaunting it. "I'm sure your pri-
vate life is entirely your own affair, Leslie."
Leslie laughed. "Well, now you can go back
to Parkerstown and tell your friends about
that horrible Palmer woman. And since
you're leaving I'll see you to the door."
"But I'm not leaving," said Portia steadily,
"until you tell me where Walter is.'
Leslie's jaw dropped. "Walter!" she ex-
claimed incredulously.
More play-acting, Portia thought. "Yes,
Walter — my husband. If you'll tell me where
he is, I'll leave immediately."
"Good heavens, don't you know? But surely
he wrote you! He must have!"
Portia felt her face set and whiten, felt the tears gather-
ing at the back of her eyes. Oh, Walter, she thought, how
could you do this to me — make me beg Leslie Palmer, of
all people, for a crumb of information about you? Leslie,
who's playing a cat-and-mouse game with me, and enjoy-
ing every moment of it. I've some pride, too, Walter. I
can't admit to her that you haven't written, haven't sent
me word of any kind.
Leslie stepped toward her, hands outstretched, all sym-
pathy, triumph cloaked in commiseration. "Oh my dear!"
she murmured. "He didn't! He promised — he told me — -I
can't believe it of him. In all the time I've known him,
Walter's never been deliberately cruel. I knew he'd
changed since he left Hollywood to go back to Parkers-
town; I sensed it the moment he got there. But for him
to do a thing like this to you, Portia — "
Portia drew back, every nerve flinching. "What has he
done, Leslie? What are you trying
to say?"
Leslie ignored the questions.
"On the other hand," she said with
a judicial air of trying to be fair,
"you're partly to blame, Portia.
You know — you must have known
— how he hates the idea of your
practising law. Whatever possessed
you to take that case at the very
last minute?"
"All that's beside the point. It's
over now, and — "
"He was frightfully bitter about
it," Leslie went on. "The promises
you'd made, the time you'd said you
were through (Cont'd on page 91)
ndall . . .
Lyle Sudrow
Miss Daisy played
by Doris Rich
65
R
M
66
AU Times Below Are EASTERN TIME
For Correot CENTRAL STANDARD TIME, Subtract One Hour
K^e^LlI FBwi Efl
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CdS
8:30
Earl Wild
Carolina Calling
9:00
9:15
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9:45
Story to Order
Words and Music
Tone Tapestries
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White Rabbit Line
News
E. Power Biggs
Trinity Choir of
St. Paul's Chapel
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
National Radio
Pulpit
Voices Down The
Wind
Radio Bible Class
Voice of Prophecy
Message of Israel
Southernaires
Church of the Air
Church of the Air
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
News Highlights
Solitaire Time
Christian Reform
Church
Reviewing Stand
Fine Arts Quartette
Hour of Faith
Howard K. Smith
The News Makers
Salt Lake Tabernacle
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
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Eternal Light
Alan Lomax
Lutheran Hour
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Piano Playhouse
Invitation to Learning
People's Platform
1:00
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American Radio
Warblers
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Edward "Ted"
Weeks
National Vespers
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Tell It Again
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
First Piano Quartet
NBC University
Theater
Army Air Force
Show
Bill Cunningham
Veteran's Information
This Week Around
The World
Mr. President
Drama
Festival of Song
You Are There
3:00
3:15
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3:45
One Man's Family
Ernie Lee Show
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4:00
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Living— 1948
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Skyway to the Stars
5:00
5:15
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Jane Pickens Show
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Quick As A Flash
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Album
David Harding
Counterspy
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Philip Marlowe
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
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The Catholic Hour
Ozzie Nelson, Harriet
Hilliard
Roy Rogers
Nick Carter
Drew Pearson
Don Gardner
Greatest Story Ever
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Family Hour of Stars
The Pause That Re-
freshes on the Air
7:00
7:15
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Alice Faye and Phil
Harris
Sherlock Holmes
Behind the Front
Page
Johnny Thompson
Carnegie Hall
Musicale
Gene Autry
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8:00
8:15
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Charlie McCarthy
Show
Fred Allen
A. L. Alexander
It's a Living
Stop the Music
Sam Spade
Cabin B-13
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Manhattan Merry-
Go- Round
American Album
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Jimmie Fidler
Twin Views of News
Walter Winchell
Louella Parsons
Theatre Guild on
the Air
Electric Theatre
with Helen Hayes
Our Miss Brooks
10:00
10:30
Take It or Leave It
Horace Heidt
Voice of Strings
Clary's Gazette
Jimmie Fidler
Lum 'n' Abner
Strike It Rich
DOROTHY LAMOUR— headlines the
Seal-Test Variety Show Thursday
nights at 9:30 P.M., EST, on NBC.
DAVID RANDOLPH _wh0 writes the
program notes for all the serious music
heard on CBS is also commentator
on Music for the Connoisseur (Tues.
WNYC) on which he presents music
off the beaten path. Busy as he is,
Randolph, who admits he owns a con-
ductor's voice ("ghastly," he says) still
finds time to conduct his group
of six talented madrigal singers.
1*1
|»M id
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
Local Programs
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in New
York
Clevelandaires
Editor's Diary
Tell Your Neighbor
Bob Poole Show
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
The Brighter Day
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
mazine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love and Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Victor Lindlahr
Gabriel Heatter's
Mailbag
Minute Quiz
Kay Kyser
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Kate Smith Sings
Luncheon at Sardi's
Welcome Travelers
Maggi McNellis
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
U. S. Navy Band
Robert McCormick
Jack Kilty
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Golden Hope Chest
Bkfst. in Hollywood
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
Tnis Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
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3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Benson Movie
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Heart's Desire
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
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4:00
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Backstage Wife
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Two Ton Baker
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5:00
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When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midniqht
Superman
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Challenge of the
Yukon'
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Alka Seltzer Time
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
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7:00
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Dinner Date
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Inside of Sports
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8:00
8:15
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Cavalcade of
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Voice of Firestone
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Hood
The Railroad Hour
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Earl Godwin
Inner Sanctum
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9:00
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9:55
Telephone Hour
Dr. 1. Q.
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Radio Newsreel
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Get Rich Quick
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10:00
10:15
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Contented Program
Fishing and Hunting
Club
Dance Orch
Arthur Gaeth
Earl Godwin
Curt Massey Show
My Friend Irma
The Bob Hawk Show
BARBARA EILER —didn't have to
travel to gain experience. She made
good in her own home town, Los
Angeles, where at sixteen she made
her radio debut on a local station and
decided that this was the career for
her. Before long she was appearing
on the Frank Morgan show. Now,
she's the naive Mildred Anderson on
NBC's Dennis Day Show, on Saturday.
H»iH B^BB^S m*m
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
Local Programs
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Editor's Diary
Tell Your Neighbor
Bob Poole Show
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
The Brighter Day
Cecil Brown
Faith In Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story ,
Betty Crocker Mag-
azine of the Air
Listening Post
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Victor H. Lindlahr
Gabriel Heatter's
Mailbag
Minute Quiz
Kay Kyser
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Grand Slam
Rosemary
anl H jBJa.'yHiiiM E2
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:00
8:45
Do You Remember
News
Local Programs
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Editor's Diary
Tell Your Neighbor
Bob Poole Show
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
The Brighter Day
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Club Time
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Victor H. Lindlahr
Gabriel Heatter's
Mailbag
Minute Quiz
Kay Kyser
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Kate Smith Sings
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music
Luncheon At Sardi's
Maggi McNellis
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
Art Van Damme
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Quartet
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Jack Kilty
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen For A Day
Bkfst. in Hollywood
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Golden Hope Chest
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Red Benson Movie
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Show
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Heart's Desire
Galen Drake
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Misc. Programs
Second Honeymoon
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Misc. Programs
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
The Green Hornet
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Capt. Midnight
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Superman
Sky King
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Alka Seltzer Time
12:00
Kate Smith Speaks
Welcome Travelers
Wendy Warren
12:15
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Kate Smith Sings
Aunt Jenny
12:30
Words and Music.
Luncheon At Sardi's
Maggi McNellis
Helen Trent
12:45
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
NBC Concert Orch.
Cedric Foster
Bill Baukhage
Big Sister
1:15
Happy Gang
Nancy Craig
Ma Perkins
1:30
Robert McCormick
Young Dr. Malone
1:45
Jack Kilty
Checkerboard
Jamboree
The Guiding Light
2:00
Double or Nothing
Queen For A Day
Bkfst. in Hollywood
Second Mrs. Burton
2:15
Perry Mason
2:30
Today's Children
Golden Hope Chest
Bride and Groom
This Is Nora Drake
2:45
Light of the World
Evelyn Winters
3:00
Life Can Be Beautiful
Red Benson Movie
Ladies Be Seated
David Harum
3:15
Ma Perkins
Show
Hilltop House
3:30
Pepper Young
Heart's Desire
Galen Drake
House Party
3:45
Right to Happiness
4:00
Backstage Wife
Misc. Programs
Second Honeymoon
Hint Hunt
4:15
Stella Dallas
The Johnson Family
4:30
Lorenzo Jones
Treasury Band Show
Winner Take All
4:45
Young Widder Brown
Two Ton Baker
5:00
When A Girl Marries
Adventure Parade
Challenge of the
Treasury Bandstand
5:15
Portia Faces Life
Capt. Midnight
Yukon
5:30
Just Plain Bill
Superman
Jack Armstrong
The Chicagoans
5:45
Front Page Farrell
Tom Mix
Alka Seltzer Time
EVENING PROGRAMS
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
John MacVane
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Talks
6:30
Local Programs
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Edition
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Dinner Date
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith Show
7:30
The Smoothies
News
Lone Ranger
Club 15
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Blondie
Special Agent
Original Amateur
Mr. Chameleon]
8:15
Hour, Ted Macks,
8:30
Great Gildersleeve
High Adventure
M.C.
Dr. Christian
8:45
9:00
Duffy's Tavern
Gabriel Heatter
Milton Berle Show
Your Song and Mine
9:15
Radio Newsreel
9:30
Mr. District Attorney
Hollywood Story
Groucho Marx Show
Harvest of Stars
with James Melton
9:55
Bill Henry
10:00
The Big Story
Opinion-Aire
Bing Crosby
Time's A-Wastin'l
10:15
10:30
Curtain Time
Dance Orch.
Meredith Wilson
Capitol Cloak Room
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
John MacVane _
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Frontiers of Science
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
The Smoothies
H. V. Kaltenborn
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Dinner Date
News
Inside of Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Meredith Willson
Musical
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
Mel Torme Show
Date With Judy
Mysterious Traveler
Official Detective
Youth Asks the
Government
Earl Godwin
America's Town
Meeting of the Air
Mystery Theatre
Mr. and Mrs. North
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:55
Bob Hope Show
Fibber McGee &
Molly
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Under Arrest
Bill Henry
Edwin D. Canham
We, The People
Life With Luigl1
10:00
10:15
10:30
Big Town
People Are Funny
Public Defender
Dance Orchestra
NAM Series
Labor U. S. A.
Hit The Jackpot
Morey Amsterdam
Show
CASEY ALLEN— who plays Dr. An-
drew White on Ma Perkins, started out
to be an M.D. himself until participa-
tion in over 30 plays during his U. of
Minn, days caused him to switch to
dramatics. Subsequently, he acted in
more than 100 plays at the Pasadena
Playhouse, served as merchant seaman
during the war, and tried advertising.
He's married to Fran Carlon (Lorelei,
in Big Town). They have a child, 2.
67
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
Local Programs
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Editor's Diary
Tell Your Neighbor
Bob Poole Show
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
The Brighter Day
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker, Mag-
azine of the Air
Dorothy Kilgallen
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Victor H. Lindlahr
Gabriel Heatter's
Mailbag
Minute Quiz
Kay Kyser
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Grand Slam
Rosemary
ROGER FORSTER— who has been
automobile salesman, office boy, de-
livery truck driver, and professional
model is finally devoting all his time
to radio and video work; he's narrator
on Linda's First Love and also heard
on Wendy Warren. Married to a pretty
Southern girl, they have a 4-year-old
girl and live in Englewood, N. J.
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
Harkness of Wash-
ington
Words and Music
Kate Smitn Speaks
Kate Smith Sings
Luncheon at Sardi's
Welcome Travelers
Maggi McNeills
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Art Van Damme
Quartet
Robert McCormick
Jack Kilty
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jamboree
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
The Guiding Light
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For a Day
Golden Hope Chest
Bkfst. in Hllywd.
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Benson Movie
Show
Heart's Desire
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Misc. Programs
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Second Honeymoon
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
The Green Hornet
Sky King
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Alka Seltzer Time
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Sketches in Melody
Sunoco News
Local Programs
Local Programs
Eric Sevareid
Of Men and Books
Lowell Thomas
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Chesterfield Club
News of the World
Art Van Damme
Quintet
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Dinner Date
News
Inside Sports
Headline Edition
Elmer Davis
Final Edition
Beulah
Jack Smith Show
Club 15
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
8:15
8:30
Aldrich Family
Burns and Allen
Talent Jackpot
Better Half Quiz
Abbott and Costello
To Be Announced
The F.B.I. In Peace
and War
Mr. Keen
| 9:00
9:15
9:30
9:55
Al Jolson Show
Dorothy Lamour
Gabriel Heatter
Radio Newsreel
Revere Revue
Bill Henry
Child's World
Suspense
Crime Photographer
10:00
10:15
10:30
Screen Guild Theatre
Fred Waring Show
Family Theatre
Dance Orch.
Local Programs
Hallmark Playhouse
First Nighter
A.M.
NBC
MBS
ABC
CBS
8:30
8:45
Do You Remember
Local Programs
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Honeymoon in N. Y.
Clevelandaires
Editor's Diary
Tell Your Neighbor
Bob Poole Show
Breakfast Club
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
Fred Waring
Road of Life
The Brighter Day
Cecil Brown
Faith in Our Time
Say It With Music
My True Story
Betty Crocker Mag-
azine of the Air
The Listening Post
Music For You
Arthur Godfrey
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
This Is Nora Drake
We Love And Learn
Jack Berch
Lora Lawton
Passing Parade
Victor H. Lindlahr
Gabriel Heatter's
Mailbag
Minute Quiz
Kay Kyser
Ted Malone
Kiernan's Corner
Grand Slam
Rosemary
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
12:15
12:30
12:45
The Betty Harris
Show
Words and Music
Kate Smith Speaks
Kate Smith Sings
Luncheon At Sardi's
Welcome Travelers
Maggi McNellis
Wendy Warren
Aunt Jenny
Helen Trent
Our Gal Sunday
1:00
1:15
1:30
1:45
Milton Katim's Show
Robert McCormick
Jack Kilty
Cedric Foster
Happy Gang
Checkerboard
Jambores
Bill Baukhage
Nancy Craig
Big Sister
Ma Perkins
Young Dr. Malone
2:00
2:15
2:30
2:45
Double or Nothing
Today's Children
Light of the World
Queen For A Day
Golden Hope Chest
Bkfst. in Hllywd.
Bride and Groom
Second Mrs. Burton
Perry Mason
This Is Nora Drake
Evelyn Winters
3:00
3:15
3:30
3:45
Life Can Be Beautiful
Ma Perkins
Pepper Young
Right to Happiness
Red Benson Movie
Show
Heart's Desire
Ladies Be Seated
Galen Drake
David Harum
Hilltop House
House Party
4:00
4:15
4:30
4:45
Backstage Wife
Stella Dallas
Lorenzo Jones
Young Widder Brown
Misc. Programs
Johnson Family
Misc. Programs
Two Ton Baker
Second Honeymoon
Treasury Band Show
Hint Hunt
Winner Take All
5:00
5:15
5:30
5:45
When A Girl Marries
Portia Faces Life
Just Plain Bill
Front Page Farrell
Adventure Parade
Capt. Midnight
Superman
Tom Mix
Challenge of the
Yukon
Jack Armstrong
Treasury Bandstand
The Chicagoans
Alka Seltzer Time
EVENING PROGRAMS
i
M
68
UNA MERKEL— familiar to movie-
goers as a scatter-brained blonde,
"allows" it's a relief to play the cal-
culating Adeline Fairchild (who isn't
all frill and froth) in Great Gilder-
sleeve. Before entering radio, Una
spent many years on the stage and
screen, acting in plays with Lillian
Gish, Helen Hayes and Walter Huston
before going into motion pictures.
6:00
News
Eric Sevareid
6:15
Sketches in Melody
Local Programs
Local Programs
Report from the
6:30
United Nations
6:45
Sunoco News
Lowell Thomas
7:00
Chesterfield Club
Fulton Lewis, Jr.
Headline Editor
Beulah
7:15
News of the World
Dinner Date
Elmer Davis
Jack Smith Show
7:30
Henry J. Taylor
Lone Ranger
Club 15
7:45
H. V. Kaltenborn
Inside of Sports
Edward R. Murrow
8:00
Cities Service Band
Great Scenes From
The Fat Man
Jack Carson Show
8:15
Of America
Great Plays
8:30
Jimmy Durante
Show
Leave It to the Girls
This Is Your FBI
Mr. Ace and Jane
9:00
Eddie Cantor Show
Gabriel Heatter
Break the Bank
Ford Theatre
9:15
Radio Newsreel
9:30
Red Skelton Show
Lionel Hampton
The Sheriff
9:45
Show
10:00
Life of Riley
Meet the Press
Boxing Bouts
Everybody Wins,
10:15
Phil Baker
10:30
Sports
Dance Orch.
Spotlight Revue
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
10:00
10:15
10:30
10:45
11:00
11:15
11:30
11:45
Story Shop
Mind Your Manners
Mary Lee Taylor
Archie Andrews
Meet the Meeks
Smilin' Ed McConnell
MBS
Robert Hurleigh
Ozark Valley Folks
Bill Harrington
Misc. Programs
Movie Matinee
Teen Timer's Club
Shoppers Special
This Is For You
Johnny Thompson
Saturday Strings
Abbott and Costello
Don Gardiner
Buddy Weed
CBS News of America
Barnyard Follies
Garden Gate
Red Barber's Club-
House
Mary Lee Taylor
Let's Pretend
Junior Miss
AFTERNOON PROGRAMS
12:00
Arthur Barriault
Magic Rhythm
Junior Junction
Theatre of Today
12:15
Public Affairs
Grand Central
12:30
American Farmer
Station
12:45
Coffee in Congress
This Week in Wash-
ington
1:00
Nat'l Farm Home
Smoky Mt. Hayride
Maggi McNeills,
County Fair
1:15
Herb Sheldon
1:30
Edmond Tomlinson
Piano Playhouse
Give and Take
1:45
Report From Europe
2:00
Music For The
Time For Melody
Football
Stars Over Holly-
2:15
Moment
wood
2:30
Music, Opera
Football
2:45
3:00
Dell Trio
Football
3:15
3:30
Local Programs
Music
3:45
4:00
Music
Football
4:15
4:30
Local Programs
Charlie Slocum
Local Programs
4:45
First Church of
Christ Science
5:00
Take A Number
Tea and Crumpets
Chuck Foster's
5:15
Orch.
5:30
True or False
Melodies to Remem-
ber
Make Way For
Youth
5:45
Lassie Show
Dorothy Guldheim
EVENING PROGRAMS
6:00
6:15
6:30
6:45
Peter Rooerts
Art of Living
NBC Symphony
Dance Orchestra
Jack Beall
News from Wash-
ington
Memo From Lake
Success
Saturday Sports
Review
Larry Lesueur
7:00
7:15
7:30
7:45
Vic Damone, Hollace
Shaw
Hawaii Calls
Robert Hurliegh
Mel Allen
Treasury Bond Show
Famous Jury Trials
Camel Caravan with
Vaughn Monroe
8:00
8:15
8:30
8:45
Hollywood Star
Theatre
Truth or Conse-
quences
Twenty Questions
Stop Me If You've
Heard This One
Johnny Flstcher
The Amazing Mr.
Malone
Sing It Again
9:00
9:15
9:30
9:45
Your Hit Parade
Judy Canova Show
Life Begins at 80
Gang Busters
What's My Name?
Winner Take All
It Pays To Be
Ignorant
10:00
10:15
10:30
Day in the Life of
Dennis Day
Grande Ole Opry
Theatre of the Air
Whiz Quiz With
Johnny Olsen,
M.C.
Hayloft Hoedown
Hometown Reunion
National Guard Mili-
tary Ball
CLAUDIA MORGAN— with more
than 30 Broadway roles to her credit,
never studied dramatics; she didn't
have to — her father is Ralph Morgan
and her uncle is Tall Story Hank.
Claudia, who inherits much of her
beauty from her Norwegian actress
mother, is heard regularly as Carolyn
Kramer in Right to Happiness, NBC.
Handy for desk use,
Crosley's sleek table
model, 9-102.
The Modern design walnut plastic cabinet of the Cros-
ley table model (9-102) boasts curved grille louvers,
decorative control knobs and general appearance of
smartness. It's just the right size for desk use in that
man's den. Being a superheterodyne set, it will pro-
vide plenty of sensitivity and selectivity.
For FM reception:
Stromberg-Carlson's Courier.
If it's FM reception you want, Stromberg-Carlson has
recently announced a table model called the Courier,
which combines both AM and FM reception in an
attractive walnut veneer cabinet. The eight inch
speaker is suspended in live rubber and the set in-
cludes built-in antennas. It sells for less than $200.
Bendix Radio has announced a combination console in
a fine 18th Century cabinet in mahogany veneers. The
set measures 38" high, 39" wide and 21" deep. Features
in which you may be particularly interested are the
10" direct view television screen, an AM and FM
radio receiver, a record changer, a 12" speaker and
built-in antennas.
A streamlined
table model
radio (Model
66x13) is RCA
Victor's contri-
bution to the
market. You
may be inter-
ested in the
lighted station
numerals and
the dial face
that is slanted
so that it is
equally visible
from a sitting or standing position. It sells for less
than $40 and comes in walnut or mahogany finish.
RCA - Victor,
easy-to-see dial.
69
Elsie Brandt gives Terry
Burton useful hints on
buying intelligently.
By TERRY BURTON
Every Wednesday, The Second Mrs. Burton is
visited by a Family Counselor. Through this department
Terry Burton shares some of these visits with Radio Mirror readers. The program is heard daily, 2 P.M. EST, CBS.
70
ALTHOUGH my favorite hobby is planning clothes for
myself and my friends, I sometimes have a little
trouble managing the time. With a new baby on
my hands and a home and husband to look after,
creative designing sometimes seems like a piece of self-
indulgence. After little Wendy was born, I looked for-
ward eagerly to my long-planned trip to New York,
where I was going to haunt the shops and see the new
designs at the wholesale dress houses, and have a luxu-
rious time altogether — and then it turned out that all
I could spare was two days away from Wendy and Stan,
and our life in Dickston.
However, I made a special point of getting to see
Elsie Brandt, promotionist at Capri Original, one of
the famous wholesale establishments. Miss Brandt had
been one of our most exciting Family Counselors, and
had given my listener friends and me some pointed,
genuinely helpful ideas about wardrobe-planning when
she dropped by at our house during her visit to Dick-
ston. She had said, for example, that women would
do better to give more time to planning, and less to
shopping around. A plan, written down in black and
white, is the best way to avoid being side-tracked by
a glamorous hat or pair of shoes that have no real
place in your closet. And she emphasized, again and
again, her ideas about economy. "Yes," she said, "a
wardrobe, for the average woman, must be planned
with economy. But economy, in my view, means just
this: buying the best you can afford. Fine workman-
ship, good fabric, wise and intelligent design are long-
term investments."
I told her then — and I'd like to tell all of you — how
much I agree! You see, I think what Miss Brandt said
is just part of a wider philosophy. Getting and giving
the best that is possible can be applied to every circum-
stance of your life. Friendship, truth — happiness itself
— these items are not bought at a bargain basement or
a fire sale. If you yourself are not generous with these
things you will receive only superficial loyalties and
half-truths in return.
For women, whose lives are made up so often of small,
everyday things, this philosophy must be translated into
small, everyday uses. I feel strongly that a woman's
clothes can be a valid expression of this attitude toward
life. A determination never to be satisfied with any-
thing shoddy can surely be extended to cover a refusal
to have a closet full of cheap, flimsy garments when
one may have two or three well-made, well-designed
outfits instead.
When I saw Miss Brandt's designs, in her workroom
at Capri in New York, I knew that here was the con-
crete expression of my ideas about clothes. Any one
of her gowns, from the most tailored to the most lush,
would be an investment that would take you happily
through many seasons. She cautioned me again — as she
had cautioned our listeners when she was our Family
Counselor — to avoid the pitfall of buying for a single
occasion. Not only should your major garment, be it
dress or suit or ensemble be bought with an eye to its
fitness for your particular way of life, but all your
accessories are best acquired in conformance with a
long-range plan. That way, you don't suffer the tragedy
of paying far too much for a purse or a pair of gloves
that must hide at the back of the bureau drawer when
it is not being worn with the dress for which it was
bought. Flexibility, said Miss Brandt — and I agree — is
definitely one of the requirements that accessories must
fill in the efficiently-planned wardrobe.
It's Not the Money
that Counts
(Continued from page 37)
young actresses hope some day to star
on Broadway. Some of these an-
nouncers have the courage to break
into the big time and others have the
talent but few have both. Bert Parks
had the winning combination to rate
a job as staff announcer with CBS at
the age of seventeen, a feat that's never
been repeated at any of the major net-
works.
"I didn't let on how young I was,"
Bert explains but it's doubtful that CBS
was fooled, for now, at the age of thirty-
three, Bert easily passes for twenty-five.
Bert's next break came when he was
given his own singing program, Dear
Columbia, over the network. Then, as
everyone knows, he was straight man
and singer for Eddie Cantor in 1939
and 1940. He announced and sang for
Benny Goodman and Xavier Cugat on
the Caravan.
"But the biggest break of my life
came when I let a friend talk me into
a blind date," Bert said. "I never real-
ized how much living I was missing
I till I married Annette. She's wonder -
I ful, sensible and very beautiful but
you've got to see her for yourself."
And he's quite right!
For New Yorkers, jammed into con-
crete caves that are called apartment
buildings, the only way of getting their
children into an unreasonable facsimile
of nature is to take a bus to one of the
i rivers where the city has set up a few
benches, trees, and maybe a heap of
sand or a small pool for wading. At
one of these clearings off the East
River, you are likely to find Annette
Parks and the twins.
SHE is little and nimble as only a
mother of two-year-old twins must
be and at any moment she may be dash-
ing through a group of children to re-
trieve a small, energetic boy who is
about to make a scooter airborne.
"That stuff about being as busy as a
one-armed paper hanger doesn't even
begin to tell the story," she says.
Her face is slightly flushed from chas-
ing the children. Her eyes are deep
green, her hair light brown. As she
talks, her head shifts constantly, fol-
lowing the twins, ready to lend a guid-
ing hand to one of the boys before he
gets into trouble.
Annette vividly remembers her first
date with Bert. Both were skeptical
about a blind date and when Bert's
friend suggested he make a date for
both Saturday and Sunday with a girl
he'd never seen, Bert balked. However,
they had so much fun together the first
evening that Bert was annoyed when
Annette couldn't see him the following
night because, naturally, she had made
other arrangements.
She was Annette Liebman then, just
graduated from Columbia University
and working as a dental assistant. But
she well remembers the happiness and
companionship of their pre-marital
days. Both loved good food and to-
gether would hunt up out-of-the-way
restaurants in New York, then go to
Number One Fifth Avenue to hear a
favorite singer. In between, they took
long drives into the country with Bert
playing the singing troubadour.
"When you see the male lead in a
movie singing to his sweetheart, most
people know real life isn't like that,"
T%t( DuflfoA smile wins
her a story-book career !
Peggy Diggins, Beauty Director at famed John
Robert Powers School, attracts glamorous assign-
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was first spotted by a famous columnist, who
launched her on a promising movie career.
When war began, Peggy left Hollywood to join
the WAC. Overseas, another exciting task awaited
her— as a war correspondent, she interviewed
world-famous people. Now marriage and mother-
hood keep Peggy in New York. Her winning smile
serves as a shining example to her Powers
students. It's a Pepsodent Smile! Peggy says,
"Using Pepsodent is part of my beauty routine."
The smile that wins
is the Pepsodent Smile !
Peggy Diggins knows it. And people all over
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Wins 3 to 1 over any other tooth paste
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71
How Santa Claus
found out...
THERES NOTHING]
QUITE LIKE
ALKA$£LTZ£R
FORReLIEV/NG\
THBMISERIES,
OF A COLO
^MarVtV
1 DON'T FEEL LIKE
V/ OH, DON'T
BEING SANTA CLAUS,
/DISAPPOINT THEM!
THIS COLDS MAKING I
\ ALKA-SELTZER
ME MISERABLE^!
m^sHwxRmiY
P^k BRING-
s~ m you <
WFAST
^WR£U£F'j
\ S^ m,/^22r~
DRINK IT DOWN J SEE HOW PAST
ALKA-SELTZER will EASE
THOSE ACHES AND PAINS
rMERRY CHRISTMAS!
THERES NOTH I N6 QUITE
LIKE ALKA-SBLTZiR
FOR RELIEVING
THE MISERIES
OF A COLO !
72
Annette says. "But our days of court-
ship were like something out of a musi-
cal. Bert has a beautiful voice."
Their favorite songs were "The White
Cliffs of Dover" and "I Don't Want to
Walk Without You, Baby." Together
Bert and Annette had so much fun that
they felt none of the desperation that
often makes young couples worry about
marriage. Then came the war and with
it a more serious attitude.
Bert enlisted in the infantry as a
private. With an enforced separation
they both realized their love for each
other. And when Bert graduated from
Infantry OCS in June 1943, Annette
swooped down to Atlanta in a plane
and they were married. While Bert
was at Camp Wheeler, they lived the
typical life of an army couple. It was
impossible to find a home or apartment
so they lived in one flea-ridden hotel
room after another. Finally, after three
months Annette found a furnished
room in a private house.
I WAS very excited because even a
single room can be fixed up enough
to call home," Annette recalls. "Bert's
mother and I chased all over Atlanta
trying to buy hard-to-get sheets and
pillow cases but we could have saved
ourselves the trouble."
What happened was that they moved
into their new "home" on a Monday
morning. All that day Annette fussed
about the room making it livable but
when Bert got back from camp that
evening his face was long and sad.
"I knew what was wrong without
being told," she said. "He had his or-
ders to ship overseas."
While Bert spent two years with
"Vinegar Joe" Stilwell in the CBI
Theater, Annette moved in with her
parents in Connecticut and worked in
the New Haven Hospital as a nurse's
aide. Yet she was probably one of the
few army wives who had a regular
Saturday night date with her husband's
voice although he was half-way around
the world. Bert and Finis Farr were
making wire recordings of combat ac-
tivities that were played weekly over
CBS on the program Yank in the
Orient.
But Bert wasn't that lucky. Once for
a period of six months he didn't receive
a letter from Annette. Only a soldier
who has been in the jungles can realize
his anguish. When her mail finally
caught up with him, he had 85 letters.
He arranged them in chronological or-
der and read each one through to the
end. In the meantime, he earned the
Bronze Star and a cluster of Battle
Stars the hard way. The wire recorder
missions were a little more than dan-
gerous and once took him behind the
Jap lines for three weeks when several
of his buddies were killed.
Almost two years to the month that
Bert went overseas, he returned to the
states a Captain. Then he and Annette
began to make their plans for a home
and children, but Bert was to meet the
same difficulties as every other young
veteran.
For months they searched for an
apartment in New York, moving from
one hotel to another every five days.
Bert had by then become regular quiz-
master on Break the Bank and an-
nouncer on Sunday Evening Party and
the Guy Lombardo Show.
Finally, they moved into a dingy,
dank one-room apartment. The place
was so dark they had to keep their
lights on all day in order to see. It was
rough and expensive. It wasn't the kind
of home that Bert and other veterans
had hoped for but nevertheless he and
Annette were together and he was back
in radio. And then Bert was due for
another surprise one evening when he
got home.
"I've been to the doctor's," Annette
said calmly.
"Are you sick?" Bert asked, half-
alarmed.
Annette smiled.
"Just a check-up," she said. "I'm
pregnant."
He sat breathless for a moment then
said, "So we're going to have a baby."
She grinned and corrected him.
"We might even have babies plural,"
she said.
Then with a do-or-die intensity Bert
began to look for a new home. With
twins they absolutely had to have a
larger and better apartment.
"I sniffed around buildings like a dog.
I kept my ear to the ground like an
Indian and even carried a rabbit's
foot," Bert said. Finally, he found a
friend of a friend of a friend who was
moving and offered Bert his two-room
apartment. Not a large home but a
distinct improvement over what they
had.
A month before the babies were ex-
pected, they moved in. The same after-
noon Annette went to the hospital for
a check-up.
"The babies weren't due for a
month," Bert explained. "At the hos-
pital they told me they were keeping
Annette for a few days because she
needed a rest."
The next morning Bert was awakened
by a call from his doctor and notified he
had twins, both boys.
"It was a twilight birth for the
father," Bert said. "No pacing. No
pains."
Because of the premature birth, the
twins required more care than usual
when Annette finally got home.
"You should've seen our two little
rooms then," Bert laughed. "There was
Annette, the nurse, a cook, me and the
twins. Fifteen milk bottles in the re-
frigerator, a double-sized baby car-
riage, and two of everything from cribs
to toys. What a madhouse. It really
required a director and producer to
cross a room."
THEY call the twins their double bless-
ing. Jeff and Joel have what they
had hoped for in their children: a good
sense of humor. They're beginning to
talk a little in kind of a mumble that
would cause Bert trouble if they were
to appear on a quiz program. But they
definitely have a sense of humor. When
either one is asked his name, he gives
the name of his brother. And they have
private jokes. They mumble to each
other and suddenly start laughing but
no one else knows why.
The twins are mad about their father
and love to hear him sing. When he
isn't at the studios, Bert frequently
takes them to the park. Neither one of
the Parkses cares for night clubbing.
Ten minutes after a broadcast or re-
hearsal Bert is home. They still enjoy
a good dinner out and a play but most
of their social life is spent quietly with
their friends Jack and Terry Rayel,
George and Helen Zachary, and Mr. &
Mrs. Music (Andre Baruch and his
wife Bea Wain). On winter evenings
they get together with the Baruchs and
while Andre chords on the piano, Bea
and Bert ad lib to a Calypso tune.
"Bert and I have always had wonder-
ful times together," Annette says. "And
it seems the longer we're married, the
happier we are."
When Bert is free, they work to-
gether around the apartment, take care
of the children and still find themselves
late at night in deep conversation even
as they did during the early days.
OUTSIDE of the very cramped apart-
ment, Bert Parks is in an enviable
position with his husky boys and lovely
wife and radio success. Stop the Music,
started over ABC last spring, is climb-
ing steadily toward the very peak of
audience popularity. It has already
usurped the places of several favorites.
Break the Bank during the past years
has become standard entertainment for
millions of listeners. Excitement on
both these shows runs high.
"They're both swell shows," Bert
said. "The contestants are grand even
though we have some embarrassing as
well as amusing incidents." And the
M.C., naturally, must be adept at
handling whatever comes.
On the amusing side of the ledger
was the contestant, a woman from the
middle west, who was pregnant. After
she had earned her prizes on Break the
Bank, Bert held her at the mike for a
moment.
"There's one other thing I hope for
you," he said. "May you be as lucky as
my wife and I were and have twins."
Four months later he had a letter
from her. She had twins. Fortunately
for Bert, she too considered herself
lucky. Some people, prepared for one
child and confronted with two, might
have been a trifle upset!
On the embarrassing side are the
phone calls he gets in the middle of the
night from people who want to partici-
pate in quiz programs; the strangers
who come up to the stage and pretend
they've known him for years, expect-
ing easier questions; and the people who
offer him seats on buses, hoping it may
lead to tickets for his shows.
"That really bothers me," Bert ex-
plained. "In New York, no one offers
another person a seat unless he is carry-
ing a medical certificate that he has
been dead for an hour."
But Bert has only respect for hu-
manity and gratitude for the people
who have helped him. He's thankful
for his father's rich sense of humor,
the sense of responsibility his mother
gave him, the patient help of his
brother and the assists from his radio
pal, Bud Collyer.
"There's still the future and a lot of
it, I hope," Bert said. "On the personal
side I'd like to have a decent house and
continued happiness and good health
for my family. Professionally, I'm itch-
ing to get into television. I still like to
move around and mug."
Bert will be a sensation in television,
his associates predict. They point to
the swell job he did on his first tele-
vision show, Party Line, and the laughs
he gets from the studio audience.
There's one question about quiz-
masters that everyone wants to know
the answer to. What happens to them
when — somehow or other — they get to
be contestants on other people's quiz
programs?
It might be the easiest thing in the
world. It might be that with the tech-
nique he's learned from handling a
show of his own, a quizmaster could go
before anybody's mike, keep his head,
answer brilliantly, and walk off with
the whole studio. It might be — but ac-
cording to Bert, it's not.
Once — just once — he was a contest-
ant, on Bob Hawk's program. He was
ready; after all, he knew the ropes . . .
He fluffed every question.
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INSIST ON
CANDY STRIPIO PAC
R. F. D. America
(Continued from page 41)
general information to have some-
thing to say. Finally, I had the ad-
vantage of a little radio experience,
gained through interviewing on WAUX,
Waukesha, the boys and girls who are
outstanding in dairy club work.
With the other winners of our local
elimination — Bill Wright and Helen
Swartz — I made the trip to Chicago a
family affair. My Mary Jean, Bill's
wife, and Helen's husband joined the
party.
The Louis G. Cowan office, producers
of the show, gave us full-scale visiting
firemen treatment.
By the time we faced the micro-
phones, we had lunched at the Shera-
ton, toured the Museum of Science and
Industry, dined at Matt Schulien's, vis-
ited Don McNeill's Breakfast Club, seen
the Board of Trade, and laughed
through the stage performance of "An-
nie Get Your Gun." Night clubbing
at the Panther Room, a tour of the stock
yards, Natural History Museum and
the Aquarium added to our feeling that
Chicago was a gigantic show, staged
just for us.
Sometime, in the midst of this, we
had rehearsals, where they peppered
us with questions similar to the ones
which would be used in the broadcast.
Bill, Helen and I were to be pitted
against Michigan's Doris Handy, Farm
Champion of the previous week.
The rehearsals gave us the idea. By
the time we faced the studio audience,
we knew this was no walk-away.
Today, replaying the transcription
I received of the show, I remember the
way I felt when Joe Kelly, then M.C.,
began hurling questions.
He started out easy. Are men more
forgetful than women? Prove it. What's
your wife's birthday? How do you
identify apples by their shape and
size? If you milked a cow three times
a day instead of twice, would you get
more milk?
I had an answer for that. "Yes,
about 20 per cent more." I knew. Two
years before, I had milked General's
Myrtle three times a day for a record
and she had hit it. In ten months, she
produced 17,743 pounds of milk with
770 pounds of butter fat.
Joe Kelly whistled — whistled songs
which should suggest kinds of cheese.
"God Bless America" brought Bill's
answer of American cheese; "My Blue
Heaven" prompted a reply of Bleu
cheese.
Claiming he was tired, Joe handed
me a flute. "I hear you played in your
high school band. Will you help me
out?"
He called the notes. I responded
with solitary toots. My playing was
rusty. It was a long time since a foot-
ball coach had turned me into a musi-
cian to improve my wind.
"A; D; C. Now go back to E."
I caught on. I dropped my flute and
raised my hand. The cheese questions
had been bait. The number was "Three
Blind Mice."
"Play it," commanded Joe.
The audience survived, but I think
the mice ran back into their holes.
I was into the semi-finals. I used
my stock- judging experience to enu-
merate characteristics of a good milk
cow, then drew on college chemistry to
explain that "trace elements" were mi-
nute quantities of such elements as
boron and cobalt. Lacking them, seem-
ingly rich land produces crops which
fail to provide adequate nourishment
for either livestock or humans.
As finalists, Doris Handy, who al-
ready had won three times, and I tus-
sled over a couple. The showdown
question was announced.
This was it. I shot a glance at Mary
Jean in the audience. I would have
given anything to be able to change
places with her. This was worse than
a University of Wisconsin exam. I got
set, expecting a tough one.
It was tough all right, but not the
way I anticipated.
Said Kelly, "Thomas Quincy, Wash-
ington, D. C. wants us to imagine a
fireman quits chasing fires and settles
down to a quiet, peaceful life on a
farm. He wants to surround himself
with his favorite color — red. Take
turns. Name the items. You have five
seconds each."
Mentally, I took a color inventory of
our farm. The only trouble was, Doris
thought of the same things I did.
She got barn, tractor, Devon cows,
handles on farm tools, spaniel dog. I
named Duroc hogs, Guernsey cattle,
short horn cattle, red poled cattle.
What else was red? This show-
down was getting rugged.
Doris was reaching too. "Red sus-
penders." The audience howled.
*?t fa&ct*tate4> me 5 mwuti*ty& a cvee&
Every morning, Monday through Friday, you
"meet new people" on "My True Story" Radio
Program. Every morning you follow a complete,
true-life drama prepared in cooperation with the
editors of True Story Magazine. On "My True
Story" no long drawn-out episodes . . . no re-
hash of yesterday's story. That's why so many
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AMERICAN BROADCASTING STATIONS
"Hereford hog." That just about
exhausted the livestock.
Doris was more versatile. "Red ban-
dana handkerchief."
"Red barn." That had been said. I
was getting rattled. Joe ruled it out,
and I substituted "red truck."
Doris gasped, "Red strawberries."
I took her suggestion. "Red raspber-
ries." It was positively my last gasp.
I was color blind and color dumb. I
couldn't have thought of even such
obvious things as Mary Jean's lipstick
or a red sunset.
But that did it. Doris groped for
five seconds. The horn ended the con-
test. I mopped my brow, looking
through the audience until my eyes
found Mary Jean. I hoped I'd done
well enough to make her proud of the
old man.
SHE was all but jumping up and down.
I, however, wasn't so sure I had won.
The judges huddled. I tried to com-
pute the score.
At last the M. C. announced, "The
Farm Champion is. . . ."
For me, his pause lasted hours.
". . . is Mac McKerrow, of Pewaukee,
Wisconsin."
You should have seen the loot. Fif-
teen one-gallon cans of paint, a com-
plete set of aluminum cooking uten-
sils, a vacuum cleaner and attachments,
and a home freezer.
It was quite a collection. Prizes
added on later shows have put me years
ahead in my farming, for I have re-
ceived such things as a ten years' sup-
ply of overalls, more paint, nylons for
Mary Jean, 23,343 live Florida bees,
two electric water heaters, a front end
loader to attach to my tractor, and an
automatic ironer for the house.
A contestant works for it; he has
to know more than his own name to
win, but when he earns the title of
Farm Champion of the Week, he has
something to show.
I feel like a good provider every time
! I see Mary Jean running the family
laundry through that ironer instead of
spending hours to do the same job by
hand, and when she gets all dressed up,
ready to go out, I take a look at her
nicely-filled nylons and think, "Mac,
my lad, you talked for those socks."
The material things, and their dollar
' value, however, don't begin to meas-
I ure the benefits I have gained. Most
important, it keeps me from getting
root-bound on my own land.
That is easy to do when you're a
farmer, for although there's drama in
; farming, it's the slow-paced drama of
! the seasons. Spring planting, summer
labor, fall harvest and winter enjoy-
ment of accomplishment — youthful
learning, mature endeavor and then the
pleasure of seeing the cycle repeated
I again with your children.
You need to concentrate a cross
I section of this into a brief radio pro-
gram to have the drama emerge sharply
! defined. Then city people as well as
I farmers feel it. Evidence of this is the
mail. Thousands of letters, bearing
city addresses, reach the Cowan office
each week suggesting questions for
, R.F.D. America.
My grandfather, who settled our land
in 1874, and my father, who has achieved
an international reputation for breed-
ing Shropshire sheep, also realized the
importance of show competition in a
j farmer's life. For more than half a
I century, they have exhibited our sheep
and cattle.
They got me started early. Compet-
ing for the title of Farm Champion of
, the Year will climax a lifetime — 24
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Li^lItipiIlOglStll]
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The White Package with
the Orange Band
POULTICE
76
years, but it's still a lifetime — which
has been punctuated by shows.
I went into my first one at the age
of fifteen. My father had promised "'if
I was a good boy," I would be permit-
ted, when fall came, to take our show
flock to the Ohio and Michigan state
fairs.
He sent me out alone. The lambs
and I traveled in the same freight car.
At night, I huddled up among them to
sleep, and in the morning I woke up
when my pets started nuzzling me with
their noses.
I WAS a frightened, homesick kid
when I unloaded them at strange fair
grounds and drove them into an exhibit
barn. In the excitement of the show
that feeling evaporated, but when I
came home with blue ribbons, I owned
the world.
I've won many such prizes since. As
a high school freshman, I had the grand
champion Southdown wether lamb at
the Wisconsin Junior Livestock show,
took a similar prize at the University
of Wisconsin's "Little International,"
won stock judging contests which sent
me into national competitions. Through
them all, winning has brought me that
same lift of spirit.
I might even stretch a point and say
I won my wife in a contest. We met
at a state convention of the Young
People's Christian Union. She was on
the committee which nominated me for
president. I won the election — and the
girl, Mary Jean Beigel of West Allis.
We were married April 22, 1945, and
now have a boy, Bruce David, three.
Aside from the personal sense of
achievement gained from winning on
R.F.D. America, there's the added satis-
faction of contributing toward better
understanding between farm and city.
Radio, as much as good roads, ended
the day of the "hick." The isolation of
farming, which in Europe grew so
intense that the language of one valley
could not be understood in the settle-
ment on the other side of a mountain
ridge, has broken down. Farmers today
know what goes on in cities.
The opposite, however, is not always
true. To many city dwellers, farming
is still a remote occupation. They still
see it in terms of ox carts and asafedita.
R.F.D. America lowers this barrier.
Radio listeners, rural and urban, meet
those who produce the food the world
needs, they discover scientific farming
is in practical, everyday use, and that
the men and women who work at it are
interesting individuals who can spice
their exhibition of knowledge with
quick wit and pleasant humor.
There's Ed Bottcher who took over
as Country Question Editor when the
show moved to NBC and Joe Kelly
found he could not quiz Quiz Kids and
farmers at the same time.
Ed, although he does today a pro-
fessional radio performer's job on a
big network show, is as much of a dirt
farmer as his great grandfather who
settled the land in Cullman County,
Alabama.
Entering Alabama Polytechnic In-
stitute at fifteen, he took his Bachelor
of Science degree in Agriculture. Work-
ing for the Bureau of Entomology, he
helped farmers fight boll worms, later
became a county agent, and was coun-
ty supervisor for the Farm Security
Administration.
Like me, Ed loves a challenge. He
first came to R.F.D. America as one of
three contestants from Alabama, and
emerged from his first contest as runner
up to the title of Champion Farmer of
the Week.
He got his second chance when the
winner, a woman from Georgia, an-
nounced she couldn't return. She was
"expecting" and her doctor would not
allow her to travel.
The defeat had sharpened his wits.
During the intervening week, he
crammed like a freshman studying for
his first exam. He was not going to get
licked again.
He wasn't, either. He set an all-time
record by winning eight times in suc-
cession. His prizes added $600 to his
income tax, and he retired undefeated
when he topped professional radio per-
formers in the audition for Country
Question Editor.
As a five-day farmer, he now has less
time to grab a fly rod and fish for the
blue gills and large-mouth bass in his
one-acre pond, for he has one of the
longest commutation trips on record.
Each week he travels 1,342 miles to
spend his Saturdays and Sundays in
Chicago. By this time he knows every
pilot, stewardess and Pullman conductor
en route, and he also has a large num-
ber of farmer friends from every state
in the union.
In contrast to Ed, there's Wayne
Hardison of Carters Creek, Tennessee.
Wayne is a Farm Bureau leader, and
vitally interested in PTA and church
work. Until R.F.D. America summoned
him to Chicago, he had never been out-
side his state.
He was so excited when the telegram
arrived that he climbed on a horse,
raced to tell a neighbor, then forgot the
horse and walked home. His wife put
a fruit cake in the oven to warm and
let it burn to a crisp. Later, he asked
when dinner would be served and had
to be told he had already eaten it.
Hardison told the R.F.D. America
staff, "I've worked hard all my life. This
is the first thing I didn't have to earn by
the sweat of my brow and the toil of
my hands. It's the most wonderful
event that ever occurred to me."
Mrs. Gertie Moody gave listeners a
new insight into a woman's work. She
has the man-sized job of managing an
80,000 acre property belonging to Delta
Securities Company. In charge of graz-
ing lands, farm tenants, trapping, hunt-
ing, camp site leases, oil leases, she is
equally at home on a horse, driving a
truck, rounding up cattle, behind her
desk in the office, or solving school
problems with her local PTA.
DICK Heckendorf of Littleton, Color-
ado, is another one whom R.F.D.
America sent back to his books. He won
his title and held it through five shows
until Clyde Rowe of Chandler, Arizona,
took it away from him.
Heckendorf compensated by staging
his own version of R.F.D. America for
the 4-H Clubs in his own community. If
the show could stimulate farmers on a
national scale, he reasoned, it could be
equally exciting for the kids in his
neighborhood.
Robert Sawyer of Leland, Illinois,
one of my coming opponents for the
"Oscar," is going to be a tough man.
He had years of coping with questions
when he taught vocational agriculture,
and he now does a good job of putting
those theories into practice on his own
farm.
We'll have two other competitors,
who, through run-off contests, earn
their right to compete for the title of
Farm Champion of the Year. We don't
yet know their names (as this is writ-
ten) but we already are certain of one
thing — to go into that final contest, they
will have to be good farmers, good
citizens and good talkers.
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78
Toilet Water 1.25, 2.00
Sachet 1.25— Dusting Powder 1.50
Perfume 1.25, 4.50— Talcum .75
Bath Crystals 1.75
A creation of OU1 South Perfumers, Fiftli Avenue, New York
Come, Ye Thankful
(Continued from page 61)
20-22 minutes a pound. For an 18 to
24 pound bird, allow 18-20 minutes a
pound.
SAVORY BREAD STUFFING
10 cups soft bread I teaspoon
crumbs, packed thyme
2 cups finely 2 medium onions,
chopped celery minced
2 teaspoons salt I 'A cups oil or
!/2 teaspoon pepper melted margarine
I tablespoon or shortening
poultry seasoning
Combine all ingredients except oil.
Add oil slowly. Toss together lightly
with a fork until thoroughly blended.
Makes 10 cups stuffing. (Allow ap-
proximately 1 cup stuffing per pound.)
Try one of these changes (but remem-
ber there are 16 tablespoons in a cup) :
For each cup of bread used, add IV2
tablespoons chopped dill pickle; or Va
cup mashed sweet potato plus 1 table-
spoon fried sausage meat; or 2 table-
spoons chopped seeded raisins.
RICH MINCE PIE
Vi
lemon
Va
cup sugar
Vl
cup suet
Va
cup whole raisins
C/4 pound)
V2
cup molasses
Va
cups raisins
y?
teaspoon salt
1
beef bouillon
V2
teaspoon
cube
cinnamon
Vl
cup boiling
Va
teaspoon allspice
water
Va
teaspoon ground
2
apples, unpeeled
cloves
cored and
1
recipe pastry
chopped
(2 cups flour)
Put lemon, suet and 1*4 cups raisins
through food grinder. Dissolve bouillon
cube in boiling water. Combine all# in-
gredients except pastry, in a saucepan.
Heat to boiling and simmer for 30 min-
utes, stir occasionally. Roll out half the
pastry to fit an 8-inch pie pan. Cool
filling and pour into unbaked pastry
shell. Roll out remaining pastry. Make
a lattice or plain top. Seal edges well.
Bake in a very hot oven (450° F. ) for
10 minutes. Reduce heat to 350° F.
and continue baking for 30 to 40 min-
utes. Makes an 8-inch pie.
PUMPKIN CHIFFON PIE
2 teaspoons
cinnamon
'/j teaspoon ginger
Va teaspoon allspice
'/2 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sugar
2 tablespoons
grated orange
rind
'/2 cup heavy cream
'/2 recipe pastry
( I cup flour)
I envelope plain
gelatin
Va cuP cold water
l'/2 cups mashed
pumpkin (canned
or fresh)
I cup brown sugar
3 eggs, separated
Roll out pastry to fit 9-inch pie pan.
Shape to fit. Bake in a hot oven (450°
F.) for 12 to 15 minutes. Cool. Add
gelatin to cold water and allow to stand
a few minutes. Place in top of double
boiler with pumpkin, brown sugar,
egg yolks, cinnamon, ginger, allspice
and salt. Cook, stirring constantly, over
hot water until slightly thickened and
mixture coats a spoon. Stir constantly.
Chill until mixture begins to thicken.
Beat egg white until it stands in soft
peaks. Gradually beat in remaining
sugar. Gently fold into cooled pumpkin
mixture and orange rind. Whip cream
and fold into pumpkin and egg white
mixture. Pour into baked shell and
chill. Garnish with whipped cream or
sprinkle with coconut, if desired. Makes
one 9-inch pie.
My Boss, Drew Pearson
(Continued from page 29)
how my boss's twenty-four-hours-a-
day job creeps even into his barnyard.
It's the work-day of his that alone un-
nerves me about my job as his assistant.
Many's the morning I've rolled over
about 6:30 A.M. for another two hours
of sleep — when my telephone rings.
"Hello, Dave," says Drew's cheerful
voice. "Hurry over here— we've got
work to do!" ^
This unearthly hour for starting the
day's work means nothing to Drew
Pearson because he keeps farmers
hours— although he lives during the
week in a dignified house in Washing-
ton, D. C. This house is really three red
brick houses locked together; and one
wing (or house) is his office. This
makes it easy for Drew to roll out of
bed and right to the job. It makes it
tough for me and his five secretaries.
Let me give you an idea of his day:
He's up at six o'clock, sipping orange
juice and writing the first draft of
his column, "Washington Merry-Go-
Round." At 7:45 precisely, he shaves
while he listens to the news broadcast
on the portable radio in his bathroom.
At 8:00 precisely he eats breakfast —
two soft boiled eggs, bacon, milk, and
one cup of coffee— while he bends his
ear to the radio again, this time listen-
ing to his brother Leon who broadcasts
from Paris for NBC. At 8:45 he's in
what I call his Spartan chair — it's a
wooden job with an agonizing back to
it — and he's hard at work answering
his avalanche of mail with the aid of
all his secretaries. This goes on until
12:30 P.M. Meanwhile, three tele-
phones are ringing steadily on his desk.
He answers all of them personally.
"I live in deadly terror that some day
I'll miss a hot news story by not an-
swering some phone call," he's told me
on more than one occasion — which is
one reason that his telephone number
is in the Washington phone book. Any-
one with a nickel can call him. And
sometimes I think that everyone with a
nickel does just that. But I'll admit
that often it's those calls — from stran-
gers— that have tipped him off to some
of his biggest news scoops.
i
TAKE the war profits scandal that
Congressman Andrew J. May and the
infamous Garsson brothers were in —
iDrew got the tipoff from a strange
telephone call. But let him tell it:
"I'd been broadcasting one night
about Congressman May's stand against
termination pay for veterans," says he,
"when the telephone rang right there
in the radio station at the end of my
broadcast. It was a veteran who'd been
listening to me. He told me that his
wife had had a secretarial position
where she'd learned about the scandal-
ous operations of the Garssons and
May, and he advised me to look into
; it. I did — and prosecution for the
r crooks was the result." He got his
tip about Senator Thomas of Okla-
homa's speculation in the cotton mar-
ket the same way — and long before
Stassen pointed a finger at the Wash-
ington speculators. An anonymous
phone call from a woman came in about
Thomas. My boss investigated, and a
series of columns resulted.
For that matter, as this goes to press
my boss is doing a Dick Tracy on a
phone call that came in from Michigan
the other day. The guy on the other
end was an ex-convict, and he gave
Drew some hot tips on the murder of
Senator Hooper — which Drew is work-
ing on right now.
But back to Drew's work-day. At
12:30 he rushes off to lunch. It
is always lunch at the Mayflower
Hotel, and always at his own table in the
corner. I am proud to announce that
my boss is not a table-hopping colum-
nist. No, everyone comes to him.
HE usually lunches with one of his
close friends, Senator Sam Rayburn,
Senator Ives, Attorney-General Clark,
Harold Ickes, or Senator Barkley. But
most of his friends don't give him news
stories — these come from other people
dining in the Mayflower, who come up
to tip him off on something interesting.
To him the best thing about lunch is
dessert — it's the one time in the day
when he stops being a Spartan and
really lets himself go. He always has
something horrifying for dessert, like
Baked Alaska, or Crepes Suzette.
By 2:30 in the afternoon he hurries
back to tus office, shuts off the tele-
phones, opens up his thirty-year-old
Smith portable typewriter and goes to
work polishing his column and adding
news to it. The column goes on the tele-
type at 4 P.M. sharp. After that, my
boss merely works another hour on his
mail, and then tours various govern-
ment offices to pick up more news.
When dinner is over, he is often back
at his desk to answer still more mail.
Dinner for Drew means that he sits
down with his attractive blonde wife
Luvie, and with her son by a former
marriage, who is a 16 -year-old named
Tyler Abell. Drew's daughter Ellen,
also by a former marriage, moved out
recently when she married George
Arnold — the son, if you recall, of the
famous trust-busting Thurman Arnold.
Once a week regularly the Pearsons en-
tertain at a dinner party.
It's true that Drew is a Quaker, not
only in his religion but in his heart. In
fact, he often thinks like a Quaker
relief worker — which, indeed, he once
was. But let me give you a quick
montage of his life — and then I'll prove
to you that Quaker blood is truly boil-
ing in his veins.
My boss was born fifty-one years ago
in Evanston, Illinois. He graduated from
Swarthmore College, where his dad
was a professor, in 1919 — Phi Beta
Kappa, by the way. Right out of college
he went overseas as a Quaker relief
worker, to Yugoslavia. There he stayed
for two years, rebuilding a destroyed
Yugoslavian village with the help of its
citizens — which village has since been
named Pearsonovits in his honor.
He came docilely home to teach eco-
nomic geography at the University of
Pennsylvania. But a year later he dis-
covered he had $700 in the bank, and
he decided to travel once more. He
went all through China, Japan, Aus-
tralia, New Zealand — and then sailed
for Europe. While he was on this trip
he had a thousand adventures, includ-
ing running out of money in Australia
and shipping as a seaman. But he also
interviewed the twelve leading men of
the world for a news syndicate — two
of whom were Mussolini and Mahatma
Gandhi — and he talked many of the
newspapers of Australia, New Zealand,
India and South Africa into hiring him
as their American correspondent for
the next ten years! He came triumph-
antly home with $734 — exactly $34
more than he'd started out with!
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I RONNIE SALES, INC., Dept. 5212-A
I 487 Broadway, New York 13, N. Y.
| Send me for 10 days FREE TRIAL a SLIM-MODE.
I I will pay postman $3.98 (plus postage) (sizes 38
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That trip set the pace for the next
ten years of his life. Reporting for
various newspapers, he was all over
the world wherever something was
happening until 1932. Then his friends
were afraid he'd committed literary-
suicide.
What he did was this: stepping out
of his role as foreign correspondent,
he wrote a book (anonymously) called
Washington Merry -Go -Round with
Robert S. Allen. It truly reported the
inside doings of Washington big shots;
and while writing it, Pearson worked
for the Washington bureau of the Bal-
timore Sun and Allen worked for the
Christian Science Monitor. Two months
after publication of the book, when it
was revealed that they had authored
it, both men were promptly fired. They
spent a hungry year. Then they col-
laborated on a political column called
"Washington Merry-Go-Round." At
first, only six newspapers signed up for
it. Now, and with Pearson writing it
alone, over six hundred newspapers
print it. On top of that. Drew has an
audience of twelve million people for
his radio show on Sunday nights — and
he makes around $400,000 % year.
Somewhere here, I'm sure there's a
moral!
And that word moral brings me back
to what I was about to point out a
while back: that my boss is still a
Quaker relief worker at heart. I will
never forget one hot Spring day last
year. Drew and I were in New York,
riding in a taxi toward a United Na-
tions meeting at Lake Success. I re-
member the date too well, because it
was the last day of the World Series,
with the Yanks and Dodgers tied at
three all. I complained, "Drew, why do
we have to do all these light pastimes
when we could be doing something
serious — like going to the ball game?"
He was looking through some papers
in his briefcase as the taxi moved to-
ward the U.N., and I saw that they
were reports on hunger in Europe. He
said "Forget the ball game. Dave —
when I see these reports, I get furious
at the slow way Congress is making up
its mind to feed these people." He
thought a minute. I saw the beginning
of what I call a Quaker Relief Worker
gleam in his eye. "Why couldn't the
American people get together and help
feed Europe themselves?" he said.
"UNRRA already thought of that. But
it cost so much money to collect the
food, they decided it was cheaper to
buy it," I contributed.
Drew brushed that off as if it were
a gnat. "We could start a train of our
own — we could begin it on the West
Coast and have it go East, picking up
food all the way. A friendship train . . ."
He broke off sharply, and then yelled,
"By God, that's it — the Friendship
Train!"
And that, my friends, was how the
Friendship Train really got started —
right in my boss's brain in a taxi out-
side of New York.
Drew flew to Europe to ride the train
through France and Italy.
In Genoa, Italy, he started something
else that swept America — over short-
wave, he broadcast to the U.S. suggest-
ing that Americans write letters to
Italian friends and relatives urging
them to back democracy in the coming
elections. And what happened? The
New York postmaster reported that
letters were finally going over to Italy
at the rate of one million a week!
Yes, I think you see now what I mean
about my boss's Quaker relief worker
streak. . . . but also, he never loses his
sense of humor. Example: he drives a
dark green Buick, vintage 1940. His
wife, however, darts around Washing-
ton in a baby green 1948 Kaiser. How
did she get this snappy car? Well, it
seems her husband made a bet with
Henry J. Kaiser while they were both
aboard that Friendship Train heading
for New York. Kaiser was the con-
ductor of the New York Central sec-
tion of the train, and Drew was con-
ductor of the Pennsylvania section.
In Chicago, where the huge train
was divided into sections, Drew made
the bet. "Bet you my section comes
into New York with more cars of food
than yours," said he.
"Bet you mine has more carloads,"
said Kaiser. When they came into New
York, Drew's train hauled 117 cars to
Kaiser's 109. So Drew won a brand-new
Kaiser automobile.
"If Kaiser had won, I was going to
give him a Buick!" grins my boss.
His latest Quaker relief worker idea
has been little aired in America. It was
concerned with Italy. Right after their
election last April, he began worrying,
"Now I suppose Italy will think we
Americans have lost interest in them,
unless we can show them we haven't."
With which remark he got a solution
to the problem. On short-wave radio,
he broadcast a contest to Italians in
Italy. (This was, by the way, the only
short-wave contest in history.) He
asked Italians to write essays on "How
to Make Democracy Live."
H/ELL, 15,000 essays poured in from
Italy as a result of the contest — in
Italian, of course; so Drew got his
friend Generoso Pope, publisher of the
largest Italian newspaper in the U.S.,
to translate the letters. Then he and a
picked committee chose the winners.
At a dinner this last July 7th at the
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York
City the prizes were announced — again
by short-wave — to the winners in Italy.
If you ask me, I think the prizes were
ones Italians (or Americans!) would
love: one tractor; 250 wristwatches;
1,200 men's and women's hats; 100 men's
suits; 100 pairs of shoes; 100 shirts.
Yes, my boss sure has a Quaker
streak! But he's also got a farmer's
streak. . . . though sometimes I wonder
why he has that farm, because he only
gets out to it Saturdays. Sunday is like
any weekday to him; he works all day
long on his column and his broadcast.
But Saturday he and Luvie bustle out
to Gaithesburg, Maryland, to the 170-
acre Pearson farm.
"Why do I have two pools, when
most people have one?" says my boss.
"Well, it's because I'm a bug on stop-
ping soil erosion. When I was a young
fellow in China I saw what devastation
erosion had brought to China; and when
I taught economic geography I did a
lot of research on erosion. ... so
once I saw signs of it on my farm,
I had two pools dug to catch the
drainage water before it could do any
harm."
I think that gives you a pretty clear
picture of all the Drew Pearsons that
are combined in the one man. There's
Drew the Quaker relief worker. Then
there's Drew the bloodhound, who
exposed Senator Bilbo's dream-house
and war contract scandals, the Louisi-
ana State Government scandals that
wound up imprisoning Governor Rich-
ard K. Leche and his gang — and a hun-
dred other big news stories. Then
there's Drew the columnist, the broad-
caster, the farmer, and the family man.
And I work for them all!
Dear Editor
(Continued from page 25)
after the first two nights I played tele-
vision host. She said "It's your stag
party. I'm. going out."
Domestic tranquillity won out, how-
ever, when she herself took an interest
in sporting events. When she took
to wrestling I knew that television had
won a rare convert.
I must concede that all entertain-
ment over my home receiver is not tops
by any means. Dramatic technique has
not shown any remarkable advances. I
remember a performance of "Winter-
set" I witnessed over a friend's set some
years back as being superior — in my
mind — to many of the plays I see today.
We like movies — even the old films
and foreign productions. The reels
are not top-drawer entertainment but
I've always been a lover of Grade Bs.
I am certain the movie theaters will
never be put out of business by tele-
vision. My teen-age son still prefers
seeing movies in a theater with his best
date. And I think I understand it.
It's the things that go along with tele-
vision that get my goat. Like the tele-
phone call that comes in the midst of
dramatic action.
Among my pet peeves, the one that
irritates me most is the prolonged use
of a title slide that fills the screen until
a program actually begins. I think that
every program should actually get un-
der way at the precise scheduled mo-
ment. I'm also annoyed when a pro-
gram is blacked out without any ac-
companying announcement as to why
the cut was made. Another nuisance —
not a fault of the broadcasters — is the
constant mugging of persons seated in
pick-up range of the television cameras
at sports and news events.
Guests at my home exasperate me no
end when they insist on toying with the
dials during a program. Just turning
knobs for the sake of seeing what will
happen is a pesky pastime.
During afternoon sports events, I
think television keeps my oldest boy
indoors too much. I got so concerned
about this that I blew him to two tick-
ets to a football game because I wanted
him to get some fresh air.
Comedy can stand improvement —
particularly in the use of bigger names.
Quizzes are usually more amusing than
the radio variety.
The how-to-do-it features click with
us in a big way. I've learned quite a
bit about home handicraft and have
even started amateur drawing as a re-
sult of peeking-in on instruction fea-
tures. All of which augurs well for the
future of television as a mass educa-
tional medium, I guess.
I've taken quite an interest in all
television news. I feel that my $435 in-
vestment entitles me to it.
Television has done a swell job in
filming distant news events and rush-
ing them to the transmitter for tele-
casting. But there's much more fun in
seeing an event while it is happening.
I'd rather take my news "instanta-
neous" than by delayed film.
We take tremendous interest in po-
litical talks. There's something to see-
ing and hearing a speaker that shows
him in a true light. I'm sure that tele-
vision was an important vote-getting
device in this year's campaigning.
And, speaking of votes, mine is for
bigger and better television! In every
home — above all, the landlord's —
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Come and Visit Ed Gardner
(Continued from page 33)
a long, dark moment. "Play with me!"
"In a moment, darling," his mother
said. "Stevie doesn't feel well. He has
a stomach ache."
At this Eddie bellowed. He had a
stomach ache too. Such a stomach ache.
His mother should rock him!
It went on like that all day. If the
baby cried — and he cried a lot, "prob-
ably because I was tense and he knew
it," Simone admits — Eddie stumbled
over nothing and scratched his knee,
and had to have Bandaid service im-
mediately. If the baby required chang-
ing, Eddie suddenly developed button-
ing trouble of his own.
"And I was all alone," Simone re-
minds Ed.
"All this hassle at home," Ed marvels
at this, "and me away, having all that
fun writing jokes."
"There was nothing funny here," Si-
mone responds with some pique. "No
laughs at all."
By the time Ed got home from the
office — it had been a long, hard day
with the script — he was exhausted. And
so pleased to find the house quiet . . .
Stevie had fallen asleep at last, ex-
hausted from his crying, and Eddie,
with mama all his own again, had gone
to his own bed blissfully content.
"And do you remember what was
the first thing you said to me?" Simone
asks him accusingly.
Ed has completely forgotten.
"You said you were so tired, you
thought you'd have a nap!"
Worn-out Daddy slept on the sofa in
the study from 7:30 until 10:30.
"Right through dinner," Simone says,
with some satisfaction.
Simone managed to stay upright
through dinner, through the baby's
waking and crying and feeding and
sleeping again, through calls from Ed-
die for drinks of water, a toy to sleep
with, another hug and kiss from mama.
"I tottered downstairs," she reports.
"And there was that man stretched out,
smiling in his sleep, completely dead
to the world.
"I was so furious," she says, "that I
... I woke him up!"
It was only the first of these two-are-
not-as-easy-as-one days, so they could
still laugh.
"So," Ed says, "I take it back. It
isn't a cinch. But you have to admit
that some days we have fun."
That they do.
They have fun, most days, with their
children. The day after Black Thurs-
day, Ed went shopping and bought Ed-
die a pair of professional boxing gloves.
"He can take his grudges out on me,
from now on," he explained, "instead of
his mother."
"Or his brother," says Simone, who
really read that book.
While he was at the store, Ed thought
he might as well really pacify Eddie —
and he fought his way through the
women shoppers in the boys' wear de-
partment.
He made a vague and frightened ges-
ture over the counters of shirts, pants,
overalls, cowboy suits when the clerk
came up.
"Give me a hundred dollars' worth, I
said," he reports, "making like the Big
Spender."
What size? the clerk wanted to know.
Oh, dear, did he have to know that?
How old was the little boy?
Eddie was four, but big, his father in-
dicated, marking Eddie's approximate
height at somewhere around his mid-
dle.
The salesgirl, looking doubtful, said
maybe he would take a six, and bundled
up one hundred dollars' worth in that
size.
"He couldn't get his toe into them,"
Ed reports proudly. "Had to take them
all back and get eights. The kid's train-
ing to be a tackle. Already weighs six-
ty pounds!"
Eddie indeed is an all-round athlete.
Challenges his father daily to hand-
stands. Swims like a fish in the pretty
pool the family has had built in the
backyard. Is merciless with Ed — who
plays brilliant tennis — when he reports
an only adequate score at golf.
Simone has adapted herself to the
rugged standards set by her men-folk,
plays a very nice game of tennis her-
self.
Her really favorite sport, though, Ed
says ruefully, is "going to Magnin's."
His weakness is equally expensive,
Simone retorts with some justice. Ed
recently acquired a 55-foot Alden yawl,
the Malabar VII, and although he went
on his first half-dozen cruises equipped
With a pocket edition of How to Sail
a Boat, he already is a seasoned sailor.
The Malabar VII won second place
this season in the annual Ensenada race,
but Ed gives all credit to his crew. He
is the only Skipper on record, he will
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rtell you, who ever won a race in a
prone position. However, he keeps a
high polish on the silver trophy which
resulted from the victory.
The silver cup, and a huge picture
of the boat, have places of honor in
the Gardners' drawing room — which,
like the rest of the white brick house
the family moved into last November,
is invitingly informal.
They really use their house, live —
and hard — in every room, according to
Simone who panned the colorful
French provincial interiors to take wear
and tear, as well as to look charming.
"Could be the house is too small,"
Ed admits, now that the new baby has
come. They moved from a 14-room
mansion which was just too rich for
Archie's blood, and found the pretty
little chalet comfortable until the ad-
vent of Stevie and nurse crowded them
out of their upstairs suite into a guest
room, with only one bath, on the first
floor.
ED, who is spoiled — "I like my own
dressing room" — began at this point
to talk about adding rooms, remodeling.
"He even brought home a carpenter's
kit," Simone recalls. "I was frightened.
I was afraid he'd hurt himself."
But she needn't have worried. He
didn't open it. He soothes his claus-
trophobic panics by gazing across their
garden and pool to the lush greens of
the California Country Club which ad-
joins their property in the back.
"Biggest back yard in California," Ed
brags. "Sixty-two gardeners all work-
ing for me for free."
A cook and butler, driver, — and of
course the nurse— work for Ed on an-
other basis, and keep busy.
It is not just that the family is grow-
ing. Things keep jumping in the Gard-
ner house. Ed and Simone have a vast
circle of friends. Friends from the
yachting world, the tennis world, Si-
mone's old friends from France and,
surprisingly, Ed's grand opera and high
society pals, rub elbows around the bar
or Ed's "saloon piano" at the Gardners'
frequent, happily informal parties.
Lauritz Melchior and Helen Traubel,
who can sing, and Ed, who can't, make
a great trio.
The Melchiors love to tell people how
they found the Gardners' house the
first time they were invited to dinner
after the moving.
They had no address, only Ed's fair-
ly vague directions. He hadn't found
out yet how to find the place himself,
he told them.
It was moonlight, and Lauritz drove
very slowly through the curved streets
of Bel Air, rejecting house after house
as impossible.
Suddenly in their path loomed a dog,
and Lauritz slammed on the brakes.
The dog was a friendly dog, and in no
hurry; she was awkward and ugly but
loving; her ancestry was extremely
conglomerate.
"This is it," Melchior boomed to his
wife, turning without hesitation into
the driveway. "Nobody in Bel Air but
Ed Gardner would have a dog like
that."
Anything — that's the dog's name —
ambled down the drive after them, ar-
rived to welcome them just as Ed
opened the front door.
"Come in," he shouted. "Simone is
in the kitchen supervising the soup. The
kids are asleep, at last, thank the Lord.
Now we can make some noise. Come
in . . . come in . . . take off your coats . . .
take off your shoes if you want to."
And another evening at Archie's was
under way.
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Mary Kay and Johnny
(Continued from page 50)
although, as he says, "Because of the
pass I always had to sit in a box, thus
giving me an oblique theatrical view of
things." While he was in school in
Boston and Florida Johnny wrote for
school papers and acted in little theater
groups, school plays and summer stock.
Mary Kay got an even earlier intro-
duction to the stage. She made her
first professional appearance at the
Pasadena Playhouse at the age of 2Y2 —
she did a bunny dance. By the time she
was 14, she'd made up her mind that
she wanted nothing in this world more
than to be an actress. Unlike Johnny,
she had no theatrical background in the
family. Her father was a. banker, and
his father had been a banker, and he
was very much opposed to Mary Kay's
even thinking about a stage career.
Undaunted, Mary Kay got a job in
"Music City," a record store in Holly-
wood, to pay for acting lessons with
Zeke Colvin, former stage manager for
Ziegfeld. She then went on to two years
in the Actor's Lab, famous experimen-
tal group in Hollywood. She was just
19 in August, 1945 when she followed
her fluttering heart to New York.
Johnny can laugh now about his
breathless dash from the campus to
Hollywood, but it didn't seem so funny
at the time. When he finally landed a
screen test at Paramount, the test went
on from 8 one morning until 8 that
night. "I didn't know whether the
trouble was with me or the camera,"
Johnny remembers, "until the next day
when I went in, confident I was going
to sign a seven-year contract, and I was
offered the job of carpenter! I told them
I was insulted — but I'd take it. So I
made the water rough while Gary
Cooper rescued the heroine in 'Souls
at Sea,' cleaned up after the camels for
Irene Dunne in 'High, Wide, and Hand-
some,' etc., etc." Frustration gave
Johnny a case of ulcers, so he came
back East to New Hampshire where
his mother, Edith Bond Stearns, and
he operate the Peterborough Players
Summer Theater. He started getting
parts in Broadway shows and appeared
briefly in almost every movie made in
New York in the past two years.
Mary Kay landed a job two months
after she hit New York. She was an
understudy in "Dear Ruth" and later
got a part. When the show closed in
July 1946, she did "Charlie's Aunt" in
summer stock, first at Martha's Vine-
yard and then — and here comes fate —
then at the Peterborough Players! It
didn't take the pretty little ingenue
and the young co-owner of the Peter-
borough Players long to discover each
other. A few months later they were
married.
Johnny was becoming very much in-
terested in television at that time, and
he got Mary Kay interested too. This
was not particularly difficult since, if
it involved acting, his young wife was
half sold at the start. While thinking
about a show idea, Johnny realized that
their newly-married state was a con-
stant source of material. Mary Kay's
cute, naive approach to her new domes-
tic duties supplied him with endless
anecdotes, so why not build a show
around their real-life experiences? In
record time they had Mary Kay and
Johnny sold to Dumont — with Johnny
handling all the writing and producing
chores and Mary Kay appearing in
"Strange Bedfellows" at the same time.
Before the show left Dumont to go on
WNBT, where it is now seen and heard
on Sundays from 7:00 to 7:20 P.M., the
young Stearnses had received 26,000
letters, telegrams and postcards, as
well as numerous presents. Their show
has been mentioned in every "most
popular" video poll to date too.
Last summer, between the end of
their Dumont stint and the start of their
NBT series, they had their first vacation
in two years. They went up to the farm
in Peterborough. To demonstrate why
he contends that Mary Kay is a walking
plot, Johnny tells about the trip up.
"We took the midnight train, and I
found that to save money Mary Kay
had reserved only one berth. The trip
proved rather hectic when I discovered
that she had smuggled into the berth
her cat (a pure white Angora named
Patricia) as well as a high-strung
Pomeranian which she was keeping for
a friend. After flipping a coin I ended
up in the smoker making faces at the
Pom." That incident and things like
the time they attended an antique auc-
tion while up in New Hampshire, got
separated, and wound up bidding
against one another for a pair of cap-
tain's chairs, will undoubtedly appear
before the cameras on their show.
They are writing a third party into
the script in December. They don't
care if it's a boy or a girl, but they're
awfully glad it's getting into their act!
There's a RADIO RINGSIDE SEAT RESERVED
FOR YOU atiJTe_________^ ;
TOP BOXING
BOUT OF THE WEEK
EVERY FRIDAY NIGHT
Described By Ace Announcers
DON DIINPHV and BOX COIUIM
on the
"Cavalcade of Sports'
tt
Over All
ABC
Stations
10 P.M. EST
9 P.M. CST
8 P.M. MST
7 P.M. PST
Don't Miss "Young Men of Boxing" by Lewis
Burton in the December SPORT magazine.
am
tin
till
eni
II*
"It Never Hurts to Try!"
(.Continued from page 43)
Costello programs, both the Kid Show
on Saturday and the Wednesday night
one on ABC, ever since they started.
And so I heard the prize contest an-
nouncement— $30,000 in prizes for the
most sincere letter beginning "I want
to fight juvenile delinquency be-
cause . . ."
"Well," I said to myself, "that is a
subject I know something about — chil-
dren. It won't hurt to try, and who
knows? Maybe I can win!"
After supper that evening I sat down
and wrote. I'm not a writer, and I
doubt that my letter had anything like
"style" or "literary merit," but I know
it was sincere. The judges— Eddie
Cantor, Vincent Flaherty, and Arthur
Stebbins — especially noted that quality
of sincerity, I've been told.
I DON'T remember now exactly how
I worded it, but I tried to put into
that letter all the love and understand-
ing Daddy and I had given our
children. I tried to express my belief
that the best way to fight juvenile de-
linquency is to give children that love
and understanding — before they are de-
linquent. Daddy and I know, from ex-
perience, that there are no "bad" chil-
dren. There are children who make
mistakes and who get wrong ideas, but
we believe that such children are the
victims of poor home training or of
poor parental example.
Children are great mimics. If you
don't want them to do a thing, don't do
it yourself or they will imitate you. And
don't promise them anything you don't
intend to do — because they will lose
faith in you, and then in others, and
first thing you know you have a "bad"
child on your hands, maybe even a
"delinquent" child. Kindness, patience,
firmness but no nagging — those are the
rules we followed and believe in. And
we would put kindness first on the list.
I wrote these ideas as best I could,
and I mailed my letter — with a silent
prayer. I didn't expect to win, but I
hoped and I kept on praying. That was
on May 7 — and on July 10 my prayers
were answered. Since then, it's been a
fantasy out of the Arabian Nights!
Jim Moore of Shenandoah's station
KMA broke it to us gently, or I'm sure
I'd have fainted dead away. He came
around and said that I'd won $100 for
the best letter received from KMA's
audience, and he wanted us to come to
the station next day to have our pic-
tures taken. That was wonderful
enough, but when he broke the news
that my letter had won the grand prize
— well, I cried! I still can hardly be-
lieve it — the suddenness of it, the ex-
citement, the speed with which won-
ders mounted upon wonders.
Imagine it — two simple, hardwork-
ing, God-fearing grandparents lifted
from a little Shenandoah apartment
and set down bodily in a beautiful suite
at the Hollywood Plaza Hotel, in the
very heart of the magic movie and
radio city. It was all so quick, from the
first news to the time we boarded the
train for California, that Daddy in his
excitement even forgot to bring his
watch!
So that you'll understand why we
two remained in a daze practically all
through our visit, I'll have to tell you a
little about our early lives. Both
Daddy and I were farm children from
Missouri. We married young, and
Daddy has worked, long and hard,
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86
since he was seventeen. Farm laborer,
construction worker — all kinds of jobs
he's had. I remember in the depression
after World War I he walked six miles
a day to catch a ride for some work
sixty miles away. The children came,
and we both had to work harder. I did
all the washing, ironing, cooking, mend-
ing, and cleaning for the family, and
we could never afford even so much as
a hired girl to help. If I wearied of my
endless work, I could always look at
Daddy — bent and sweating out in the
hot midwestern fields of a summer day,
or plodding through bitter winter
snows to get to some job, any job, that
would keep us going.
ONCE, after much saving and skimp-
ing, we thought we had "arrived."
We bought our own little farm. It was
wonderful — and we lost it. We began
our "travels" again around Missouri
and Iowa. During the last war we
moved to Tucson, Ariz., where Daddy
worked in an airplane factory. But
mostly, for the past fifteen years, we
lived in Shenandoah. We had many
bad times, but the children never went
hungry. We always went to church,
and read the Bible, and said grace be-
fore meals, and no matter what hap-
pened we found courage to carry on.
We had to nurse the children, each in
turn, through childhood's usual diseases
— measles, scarlet fever, and the rest.
When Carl, our youngest boy, was
seven he had pneumonia, and for a
time we feared we would lose him. We
prayed, and he pulled through. We
prayed all through the war when Carl,
now a grown young man, was in the
army and served in the Aleutians. Dur-
ing his training days, I visited him in
California. Then I went by bus. This
time . . .
We traveled in style. We were guests
of Abbott and Costello, two grand gen-
tlemen and most sincere in their work
for the Lou Costello, Jr., Youth
Foundation, their living memorial to
Lou's tragically lost little boy. Guests
of these great stars, we appeared on
their radio programs. We visited
movie studios where we met other
stars. We. dined at the Brown Derby.
Mrs. Costello took us to Slapsy Maxie's
night club, where we were "spotlighted"
and Tony Martin dedicated a song to us.
We were guests at a grand barbecue
party at lovely Brenda Joyce's, where
we met other celebrities. We joined
the Costellos on their yacht for a trip
to Catalina. We had sight-seeing tours
through the beautiful streets of Bev-
erly Hills and Bel-Air. We saw the
majestic Pacific, and the exciting horse
races at Hollywood Park — quite a con-
trast to the races we had seen at small
county fairs! So many exciting things
we did, so many celebrities we met —
and people asking us for our auto-
graphs!
And the prizes! That $5,000 mink
coat and that $3,000 trailer; the $1,250
diamond ring, the $1,200 jewel chest,
the $1,300 watches, the $3,000 sedan—
so many fabulous items I can scarcely
call them off without a list. No wonder
one of the ABC representatives, meet-
ing our train, made that quip about
Daddy.
"What line of work do you follow,
Mr. Lawrence?" he asked.
"Right now," said Daddy, "I'm un-
employed."
"You mean yesterday you were un-
employed. Today you're retired!"
We are keeping the new car, and
we're giving the "real, live baby ele-
phant" to the Costello foundation. (It
wouldn't be very happy in a small
apartment, and besides it will bring a
lot of happiness to the kids — of all races,
creeds and colors — at the playground.)
We are selling most of the other things,
not because we wouldn't enjoy some of
them, but because we want cash to
fulfill a dream. That $4,795 airplane
is no temptation to either of us, because
Daddy and I have never been in the
air and don't intend to start flying now.
The mink coat I'd love, but not as much
as I'd love the realization of our dream.
Our dream is of a little home of our
own, with "just a little ground to raise
a good garden," as Daddy says. Into
that home perhaps, we can put the gas
range we won, and the $1,000 heating
and cooling system, and the tile kitchen
and bath, and a few of the more prac-
tical and useful prizes.
We have both fallen in love with
California, and it may be that we'll
find that dream here if prices come
down. On the other hand, Iowa has a
warm place in our hearts, and we'd
think long before deciding to move so far
away from our children's homes in Iowa,
Minnesota and Missouri. Not long ago
little granddaughter Patricia was pretty
sick in Minnesota, and as soon as we
heard we caught a bus and got to her
bedside. As a grandma, I like to think
that our visit made her get well faster.
And I like to know that I can reach any
of their homes on short notice if need
be. So maybe we'll settle on Iowa after
all, despite the entrancing flowers and
climate of California.
Right now we're not rushing to make
decisions. When our merry round of
Hollywood life is finished, we'll rest up
on our two weeks' free vacation (an-
other prize) at El Rancho Hotel in Las
Vegas. We hear there is gambling in
Nevada, but don't worry about us on
that score. We're looking forward main-
ly to the wonderful scenery we've heard
about, to the cool, starlit desert nights,
and to a real rest.
SOMEONE has asked me if I don't re-
gret that this great good fortune of
ours was delayed, if I don't wish it had
happened in the days when we were
struggling to raise our family. That's a
hard question. It would have been a
great help then, of course. The children
might have had "advantages" we
couldn't give them, like nicer clothes,
and a few luxuries to brighten their
growing days. As parents we might
have had fewer worries about groceries,
doctor bills, house rent and expenses
generally.
But probably it's just as well that it
happened now. Life is a struggle in
any circumstances, and people grow
strong — or soft — according to the way
they meet it. Daddy and I, and later
the children, had to meet it head-on,
under our own power, and we figure
we came out on top. The children are
healthy and strong, and they're good
American citizens, and they're rearing
good families of their own, and that's
the important thing. So our prize
money came after we'd done our jobs
as parents, and it's satisfying to know
that — however grateful we are for win-
ning—we did those jobs as most plain
Americans do. Without help, I mean,
other than God's.
And what if we hadn't won? Well,
we'd have managed somehow, just as
we always managed before. It might
not have been easy, but we'd have done
it. We're used to struggle, and misfor-
tune doesn't get us down.
Neither, of course, does good fortune.
We're happy that it happened to me —
to us — just as I prayed it would.
And it can happen to you!
Picture Yourself us u
Hollywood Beuuty
Well — why not? What has a movie star got
that you haven't got? —
"Look at yourself in the mirror. Why, you'd be
lovely if you didn't have those big hips, if you
didn't have a protruding stomach, if, if, ifl
Well, knock those 'ifs' in the head. Start to
work! Get busy! Use your brains, your com-
mon sense and courage!"
The above paragraph is from Sylvia of Holly-
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ing, stimulating and inspiring book. A book
that should be required reading for every
gal — regardless of age. For here in 128 pages
Sylvia gives you her most successful beauty
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problems. She names names — tells you how
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another star to achieve a beautiful youthful
figure.
j Bear in mind that all of Sylvia's instructions
i are simple to follow. You need not buy any
equipment whatsoever. You can carry out all
of Sylvia's beauty secrets right in the privacy
of your own home.
This book formerly sold
for $1.00 in stiff-back
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in paper cover you get
the identical information
for only 50c and we pay
the postage. Send for
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I 1
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205 E. 42nd Street, New York IT, N. Y.
Send me postpaid a copy of No More Alibis
by Sylvia of Hollywood. I enclose SOc.
Name. .
Address .
City
Please Print
State
.J
Coast to Coast in
Television
(Continued from page 48)
fall, still have plenty of good football
coming their way via WBKB. Nov. 6th
Iowa at Illinois; Nov. 13th Northwestern
at Notre Dame; Nov. 20th Indiana at
Purdue; and Nov. 27th Washington at
Notre Dame.
* * *
WMAL-TV, in Washington, D. C, has
a very interesting show called On
Wings of Thought. It features Robert
L. Friend, a mentalist. He hypnotized
three subjects on his regular Thursday
night stint recently, and that was be-
lieved to be the first time anyone was
hypnotized on a TV show. No reports
of any televiewers being hypnotized as
a result of the show, although hypno-
tism is not permitted over the radio be-
cause listeners are often affected!
* * *
Many owners of television sets worry
because with new improvements con-
stantly being made, their sets will soon
become obsolete. The British televiewer
has no such problem. BBC passed a
decree in the Fall that the present sets
were adequate and all future sets will
be turned out in exactly the same man-
ner for several years to come.
* * *
Barry Wood, long' one of radio's fa-
vorite crooners, not only produces and
stars in his own CBS-TV show Places
Please three times a week (Monday,
Wednesday, and Friday, 7:15 to 7:30)
but he is also the producer of a lively
video show featuring the Korn Kob-
blers.
* * *
Operation Success, which we lauded
as a one-shot over NBT a few months
ago, is now a regularly-scheduled fea-
ture of the Dumont network. The show,
which displays abilities of disabled war
veterans, is done in cooperation with
the Veterans Administration. Through-
out the program employers are asked
to phone in job offers. The program
originates in New York and is also seen
in Washington, D. C, Baltimore, Boston,
and New Haven.
* * «
Cinderella Weekend, the prize-win-
ning audience participation show is now
being televised on Fridays for Detroit's
100,000 televiewers via WWJ-TV. The
grand prize each week is a weekend
trip to New York for two. The weekly
selection is made on Fridays to coincide
with the telecast.
* * *
Veterans in Cleveland with good war
yarns to spin can tell them over WEWS
on the television show called Booty
Bag. Stories are always backed up with
souvenirs and trophies and there are
prizes for the best stories and most in-
teresting souvenirs.
oLiAten when
KATE
SMITH
SPEAKS
15 Minutes with Radio's charming personality
Noon D.S.T. Monday-Friday
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Life With Sister
Margaret
(Continued from page 53) was so un-
concerned about this episode that she
didn't tell us about it for several days.
We have never seen the little boy since.
Maybe he was a mirage. On another
occasion Margaret emerged from CBS
after her Club 15 broadcast and was
stopped by a nice-looking boy, who —
instead of saying, "I'm Joe Doakes and
you wrote my themes when we were in
fifth grade together" — pulled that foggy
line, "I'll bet you don't remember me!"
I'M the sort of person who would have
said "No" thereby winning noth-
ing except lasting enmity. Not Mar-
garet. She hedged. "If you'll go on
talking, I think I'll place your voice,"
she said. And there she stood, laugh-
ing and talking to the boy and tossing
out key questions until she remembered
where she had met him, and even what
his Army rank had been. When you
realize that we entertained about
plenty-million service men during the
war, you have to give the girl credit.
At yet another time she exhibited her
customary poise and efficiency. For
three days she helped me pack a trunk
and several bags for a New York trip.
She called the transfer company, dis-
patched my trunk, checked my airline
reservations, checked hotel reserva-
tions, then sent me off to the beauty
shop to get my hair done.
While I was gone my agent tele-
phoned to say that I was to be tested
for the Junior Miss show, so I would
have to cut my New York trip short.
Margaret telephoned the airline to
move my reservations forward; tele-
phoned the hotel and advanced the
reservations; wired Betty Sullivan
(columnist Ed Sullivan's daughter, who
is one of my best friends) ; telephoned
my aunt to make arrangements for
us to meet in Detroit; then telephoned
me to say — not that I was about to get
the radio break of my life — but that she
had bad news for me: my New York
trip was being abbreviated.
I hung up and went back to the drier
to let the news bake in.
Margaret hadn't been away from the
telephone more than two seconds before
our agent called again to say that I
wouldn't be able to go to New York
at all because rehearsals were to start
at once.
Hang on to the handrail and follow
this: Margaret telephoned the airlines,
the hotel .... well, she unwound every-
thing she had just wound up. Then she
called me, still as calm as a string quar-
tet, and said soothingly, "You mustn't
mind too much — there will be hundreds
of future New York trips for you."
It was seven hours later that she and
I and Eleanor, glooming over dinner,
suddenly realized what a stupendous
radio break the Junior Miss show repre-
sented for me. The local shingles are
still warped from the shout that went
up.
One more item of my sister's poise
makes me a nail-biter in envy: her
management of date problems is as
smooth as an Astaire step. She gives
the general impression, in a group, that
she is showing everyone equal atten-
tion, but afterward she points out to
me some of the things a girl can do to
let a man know that he's special stuff.
Also, when our mother decided that
the time was ripe, Margaret explained
to me the things every girl must learn.
I personally think this was a better
idea than being informed by Mother;
you see, afterwards when I had a ques-
tion, it was cosy and secret-sharing
(and girls love to share secrets) for me
to sneak into Margaret's room when she
came home from a date, and whisper
for hours.
Another endearing fact about my sis-
ter is that she is the most generous per-
son you ever met. I don't have my own
allowance and I really don't need one,
because I'm allowed to charge the gaso-
line for my car, and my clothing is
bought on my mother's charge account.
BUT when I do need an occasional
dollar for stamps or stuff, I always
know that Margaret will hand it over
without ever asking a question. This
might encourage some girls to take ad-
vantage, but I always tell Margaret
what I'm going to do with the dough.
She is generous in another way, too.
Few people realize that Margaret has
been in show business since she was
fourteen. She loves her work and she
works hard.
During her years in show business
Margaret has learned all the tricks of
timing and has developed all the shad-
ings of technique which add up to fine
performance. During our long night
sessions of yakity-yak, she has coached
me in the methods that she had to learn
without being tipped off in advance.
A lot of kids I know think that the
routine in this world is (1) have talent,
or pretend you have; (2) get a break;
(3) buy an acre of automobile and a
swimming pool entirely surrounded by
house; (4) live happily ever after.
Margaret has pointed out to me that
it would be super if this were the way
the world operates, but that it plain
isn't. She knows the value of a buck
if anyone ever did, and she has let me
in on the secret that dimes aren't found
in daisy-centers.
She's practical. I may not be that
yet, but at least I have the brains to
understand that in this world you've
got to do a good job, you've got to give
your best, and you've got to go right on
improving yourself.
She always has a goal just ahead.
Margaret is now taking drama les-
sons, ballet lessons, and also a course
in physical conditioning. She wants to
progress from her radio and recording
successes to leads in Broadway shows.
After that, she would like to do musical
comedy in motion pictures.
With that kind of upward-and-on-
ward Brave New World example star-
ing at me across the breakfast table
every morning there is no chance of
me turning into Miss Sloth of 1950.
Another smooth thing about my sister
is that she has the knack of saying the
right thing at the right time. When
20th Century-Fox dropped my option
with a mighty thud, Margaret merely
observed, "Metro passed up Astaire, but
now see what they pay him for one
picture! I don't feel sorry for you at
all; you'll hit the top. I feel sorry for
people who don't have talent in the
first place and who, in the second,
drown themselves in their own tears."
Margaret has a super clothes sense,
which comes in handy for me as I can
wear all of her things, but she can't
wear many of mine (too short). About
the only garment she snatches out of
my closet is an antique pair of blue
jeans which have reached that perfect
state ha.1: a- between newness and
total ventilation.
I can wear her evening gowns (when
she isn't around) , her sweaters, skirts,
and date dresses. I look sensational in
her fur coat, and even if her silver-
brocade evening slippers are a trifle too
large, I've acted out the better parts of
"Gone With The Wind" before the mir-
ror, while wearing them. They make
me feel utterly Southern Belle.
Southern Bawl was more the way she
felt about it when she noticed that I
had scuffed one of the heels.
Before Margaret was born I think
Mother must have been frightened by
an electrical transformer station which
is one of the orderliest places on earth.
Margaret has a spot for everything,
and brother, everything has to be in its
spot. She says, and I hope you'll par-
don the expression, that I keep my
room "loused" up all the time and that
when I get sick of the muddle in there,
I move into her room.
Out of self-defense, she tidies up my
room as well as hers. She makes a fuss
while she's sorting, folding, hanging,
and dresser-drawering, but things look
elegant when she has finished.
Margaret is a junior Elsa Maxwell at
planning parties. When I'm going to
have a gang in or an evening of hot dogs,
cokes, and divertissement (whatever
that means), she is always able to sug-
gest things to do. First she thinks we
should play records (especially hers —
plug) and dance. She sticks around to
teach us various new steps which the
girls usually know but the boys don't.
She has a sixth sense about which guest
is self-conscious and which is a spot-
light hound; she puts the first at ease
and the second at changing records.
I don't want to give the impression
that she is too excruciatingly perfect,
because she isn't. For instance, she got
hold of my diary — the one written
when I was an immature child of fif-
teen— and read a great deal of it. At
that time I thought I was in love with
Peter Lawford. Now that I am seven-
teen, I feel sure it wasn't true love, but
only fascination. Nevertheless, this
was part of my development and I
think she should have allowed me to
develop in private without quoting
certain breathless passages.
Here's another sore spot: Margaret
has a perfectly loathsome habit of
showing guests my juvenile pictures,
taken when I still had my baby fat. I
tried to retaliate by showing some of
her early pictures, but they happen to
be cute, so I was baffled and stuff.
Just when I have reached the con-
clusion, after one of the ghastly Old
Family Album evenings, that it would
be better if Margaret and I went our
separate ways and met only as ac-
quaintances forever after, she has to go
away on a personal appearance tour.
The second or third night of her ab-
sence I discover, foolish me, that I am
so homesick and lonesome for her that
I can't stand it. I moon around the
house missing her noise, missing her
grownup nonsense. I play her favorite
song, "Someone To Watch Over Me"
over and over. And I sneak into her
room and sleep in her bed just to feel
nearer to her. So far I have never sent
her a telegram reading, "Come home at
once, all is forgiven," but I may, yet.
I guess the final word on an older
sister is that sometimes she is sure to
go sour, but most of the time she's ab-
solutely super.
Barb
(Continued from page 53)
know more about the mechanical
gadgets of our era than I did when I
was their age. They know more about
geography, politics, music and art, too.
Speaking of mechanical gadgets:
Barbara — who is just past seventeen —
has been driving her own car for al-
most a year now. Mother and I nearly
disjointed ourselves keeping our fingers
crossed for the first few months of
Barbara's solo driving. She is the only
known human being to turn our garage
corner with one wheel touching the
driveway. The squeal of that tire could
be heard for miles. During the meat
shortage, neighbors used to rush hope-
fully into the street looking for the pig
that had just been slaughtered.
However, this was a brief phase. She
and her friends have seen too many
gory results of speed, scattered along
the California highways, to persist
in taking chances. Most of Barbara's
group are careful, considerate, and slow
drivers. Also they keep their cars in
fine mechanical condition because they
know from rebuilding motors that when
the tarposis begins to wheeze it is time
to have the naranthus adjusted.
Of course, this mastery of motors
sometimes gives Barbara and her
friends a sense of being in full over-
seership of their environment. For in-
stance, Barbara — emerging from her
bedroom where she had been reading
a magazine — descended the stairs an-
nouncing at the top of her lungs, "I do
not like the way Betty Grable is doing
her hair these days. It isn't as becom-
ing as some of her earlier styles."
When she bounced into the living
room to discover that Mother and I
ara
were entertaining guests, she was the
epitome of calm. She showed the mag-
azine cover around the group, repeating
her disapproval of Miss Grable's pic-
tured coiffeur. Then she stalked out,
happy at having asserted herself.
It seems to me that the current young
crop is always on the hunt for news and
facts. They are glued together with
curiosity. Recently Mother and I came
home from a shopping tour and found
Barbara quizzing the Fuller Brush man.
For the next two weeks we heard lit-
tle except brush statistics and anecdotes
from the life of a door-to-door sales-
man. We kept expecting these nuggets
to run out but when the vein seemed
— at the end of the second week — as rich
as it was the day Barbara told the
gentleman goodbye, we questioned her
more closely about the length of his
visit. He had talked with Barbara for
almost four hours!
OUR entire family is naturally gre-
garious. We like people, but Barbara
has inherited the Whiting inclination
kingsize. Her idea of the perfect house-
hold is the three of us plus three to five
house guests. Her idea of the perfect
dinner table is that at which not less
than eight persons are seated. I think
she is a throwback to the great days of
the south when flocks of cousins de-
scended upon a commodious plantation
house and stayed for six months.
Having surrounded herself with
guests, Barbara then interprets them
as members of the family in good stand-
ing. She does little to entertain them,
leaving everyone to his own devices,
which seems to please the guests very
much; in no time, they're at ease.
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It seems to me that Barbara and her
friends are more realistic in tlieir social
behavior than my gang was at seven-
teen. We tried too hard; we were too
conscious of what the etiquette books
said. Not this junior crop! I have
strolled into a silent room, thinking it
was empty, only to surprise four or five
happy characters with their noses
buried in reading matter covering an
intellectual span from comic books to
Shakespeare.
Another wonderful thing about Bar-
bara is that she is professionally gal-
lant. Her two best girl friends are
Peggy Ann Garner and Peggy Knudsen,
and she thinks each is "posituvally"
tops in her field. At present it is a great
thing among them to refer to one
another as "Ingrid," in honor of their
heroine Miss Bergman. To be called
"Ingrid" is the compliment supreme.
Barbara's professional gallantry with-
stood one of the most difficult tests of
all: that of being applied within her
own family. Ever since we could re-
member there has been one particular
song, written by my father, which was
regarded as Barbara's property.
She sang it on special family occa-
sions. She roared it in the shower. It
was as intimate a belonging as her
toothbrush. Or as mine — which is
practically the only thing I own which
she doesn't borrow.
The song was so catchy that it was
inevitable that someone should hear it
and ask me to sing it, merely because
I have the reputation for being the
singer in the family whereas Barbara
has the reputation for being the co-
medienne. The time will come when
Barbara will make me look like an
also-ran, I'm afraid, because she has
a lovely voice. I doubt if, when that
day arrives, I will be able to equal her
as a comic.
I talked over the making of this song
recording with my mother and she
agreed that it was going to be rough to
take Barbara's pet into the nation's
juke boxes with my label on it and my
voice waxed in the grooves. But there
didn't seem to be much else to do. We
wanted Dad's music to live and this
was one way of keeping it alive.
When we talked it over with Barbara,
she was wonderful. She didn't ask why
the recording couldn't be postponed a
few years until she had undergone
training enough to be the singer. She
simply started to coach me.
SHE coached me right up to the door
of the recording studio. This might
have been a little hard to take under
other circumstances, because I sort of
think I know something about putting
over a song, but I realized that this
anxiety of Barbara's to have the num-
ber turned out exactly as she thought
it should be styled was pretty sweet.
She could have been bitter and heart-
sick, but she was too completely the
trouper to let such emotions enter her
head. That's how "Pass that Peace
Pipe" was made.
And she's such a good sport that she
changed her favorite tune. It is now
"Somewhere Over The Rainbow."
Most girls Barbara's age are tele-
phone-hounds. Thank heaven, she isn't.
Our telephone rings, rings, rings from
dawn until dawn; if any single member
of the family held up the line for more
than ten minutes, that person would
have to be gagged, bound, and hidden
in a chest to keep the telephone com-
pany from launching an investigation.
Probably the shortest calls of all are
those placed by or received by Barbara.
Her technique is clarion, but effective.
"Hello," she yells, "what do you want?
Anything special? Just to talk? What
about?" That defeats the would-be
conversationalist because practically no
one who is going to talk more than
three minutes has any idea what he or
she is going to talk about.
My little sister is not perfect, of
course. Who is? I find that some of
her worst faults are her most refreshing
attributes. For instance, she almost
never allows anyone to finish a sen-
tence. She interrupts in a clear and
ringing voice. At times this habit has
annoyed me to suds-in-her-mouth.
That this is not entirely a fault was
revealed to me at a dinner party one
night when I was on the verge of
finishing a sentence that would have
been the faux pas of the season. Bar-
bara cut me off at the safe mark and the
next day I bought her some perfume
"Don't get it," said my kid sister. "One
day I get a lecture on manners because
I interrupt, and the next day I earn
perfume for the same thing." But she
understood perfectly. She was jv.st
having fun with me.
Another fault for which I haven't
found a counterpart virtue is her de-
termination to investigate everything
in my room when I'm not at home.
Several years ago she turned up a diary
in which I had been spilling my girlish
heart. She memorized long passages
and for months afterward she would
stare into the middle distance as she
passed me like a sleepwalker, and re-
cite some of the beautiful thoughts I
had been fool enough to trust to a diary.
I suppose I should have been cagier:
after all, the closed covers of any book
are an invitation, let alone the book in
which your elder sister has been spilling
the secrets of her grown-up, madly ex-
citing (Barbara hopes) life.
Quite by accident I discovered the
journal she was keeping at the time she
worshiped Peter Lawford from afar.
Mother and I tried the Barbara tech-
nique on Barbara with enormous lack
of Barbara approval. My, my — the
things she said.
Neither of us keeps a diary nowadays,
but either of us could with entire safety.
Barbara thinks about the future with
realism. She works hard at her singing,
drama, dancing, and physical education
because she wants to be not only a great
comedienne, but a great dramatic
actress. She'll succeed, I'm certain, be-
cause she has both the talent and the
dynamic drive such a career demands
HOWEVER, at the end of this dramatic
rainbow, Barbara sees — not the tra-
ditional pot of Fort Knox huckleberries
— but a hundred closets filled with
clothes. She hopes to hit the list of ten
best-dressed women by the time she is
twenty-one, and she plans to keep up
that Hooper until she wears the world's
smartest shroud.
Meanwhile, she admits with a guile-
less smile, she will have to be con-
tented with the things she finds in my
closet, a paltry collection.
When I make a trip to New York 1
always plan to lock my room and hide
the key, but I never go through with it.
Reason one: by the time I reach New
York I am so hungry for the sight of
that junior miss — even wearing my
newest and most prized evening gown —
that I telephone her and suggest that
she run through my possessions in
search of something she really likes.
By that time she usually has complied
in advance.
My sister is also efficient, you see.
Another Woman
(Continued from page 65)
for good, just made it that much worse."
"But I am through!" Portia cried.
"The Mason murder trial was my last
case. And once Walter has all the facts,
he'll see why I had to go back to the
law just this once."
"Oh, you poor dear!" Leslie looked
ready to cry. "And now it's too late!
Oh, dear, this is so awkward and pain-
ful. When he first told me he wasn't
going to let you know, I pleaded with
him, told him he simply must send you
some word. But you know how stub-
born he can be — "
"Will you stop talking in circles?"
Portia almost shouted. She was shak-
ing; the cut-crystal bottles on Leslie's
dressing table were dancing before her
eyes. She felt that she couldn't endure
another moment of Leslie's deliberate
torture, that she had to escape or ex-
plode. "Just tell me where he is! Where
is he?"
"He's gone, Portia. His plane left at
two this afternoon."
Portia felt the floor move under her
feet, saw the room tilt around her.
Walter was gone — this was the truth.
The rest of it — Leslie's chatter about
begging Walter to write to Portia, the
false sympathy — were so much poisoned
froth and probably exactly the opposite
of what had really taken place . . . but
j she could no longer doubt that Walter
, had gone. Leslie was too sure of her-
self, too triumphant, for it not to be
true. Somehow she'd managed it;
somehow she'd managed to send Walter
thousands of miles from Parkerstown
1 and Portia.
"He couldn't." The words were the
i merest whisper out of her swollen
throat. "Not Walter. He couldn't — "
r "Until you told me," Leslie agreed,
her voice thick with sympathy, "I
wouldn't have believed he could, either.
Oh, I know he told me it was over be-
' tween you, but I thought he was just
angry, and — well, you know how men
are. Don't let it hurt you too much,
Portia. Any man who'd do such a
I thing isn't worth thinking about. You're
| still young and lovely. In your place,
1 I'd forget Walter Manning ever ex-
isted."
Portia let the syrupy words slide over
her, hardly hearing them, not caring.
Nothing mattered any more. She was
hardly aware of Leslie; all there was in
the world was the fact that Walter had
gone and her own unbearable pain.
"But why?" she asked brokenly.
"Why did he do it?"
"I — oh there's no use saying I don't
know. All I can tell you were his
reasons. Are — are you sure you want
to hear them?"
Portia nodded dumbly, fighting the
pain within her, fighting faintness.
"I've got to hear them."
"Well, he — " Then she started slight-
ly, as if, after having been rapt in con-
cern for Portia, she suddenly remem-
bered herself. "But — my — ah — guest 1
Will you go down to the lobby and wait
for me, Portia? It'll take me only a few
minutes to send my — my friend — away
and to slip into a dress. Can you wait
ten minutes?"
Again Portia nodded; she even per-
mitted Leslie to take her arm, lead her
to the door to the foyer. Leslie opened
the door an inch or two, glanced into
the foyer, and whispered, "Don't say
anything as you go through the foyer.
I'll tell my friend you were my maid.
And I'll see you downstairs in a few
minutes."
"I understand." Leslie held the door
open, and Portia passed through. The
faintness was creeping up on her; she
could hardly feel her legs move; the
door to the hall wavered and blurred
before her eyes. She had reached it;
the knob turned under her nerveless
hand. Behind her, as in a dream, she
heard Leslie start toward the front of
the apartment, heard a man's voice
calling, "Leslie, was that — "
Portia stopped. The faintness filled
her vision, roared in her ears. Then
suddenly it was gone, and sights and
sounds were vibrantly clear.
" — was that my package? I'd like to
get a fresh shirt out of it," the man's
voice went on. It was coming into the
foyer. Walter's voice.
Portia turned. "Walter — "
"Portia!"
Leslie's words leaped into the silence
that followed, like chips sucked into a
vacuum. "Oh, Portia, I only wanted to
spare you, to keep you from knowing — "
"How did you get here?" Walter de-
manded to know. "When — "
Leslie rustled forward to stand be-
side him, between Portia and Walter.
Appealingly she turned to Portia. "Be-
lieve me, I did the only thing I could
do — under the circumstances."
The circumstances were obvious —
Leslie in the clinging, champagne
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negligee, Walter in shirt sleeves and
his eyes heavy, his hair rumpled, as if
he'd been napping.
"The circumstances," he repeated,
and took his dazed eyes from Portia to
look at Leslie. "Now just a second,
Leslie," he began sharply. But she
rushed on.
"It's too late to try to hide the truth
from her, Walter. And perhaps it's
better this way. She had to know some
time. I did try to protect all of us, at
first. I told her you'd already left for
Ankara. I thought it was kinder than
telling the truth. Or — would you rather
I had told her?"
"No — I — Portia — Oh, dear God in
heaven, I didn't mean that it should be
like this. You see, I have to go, Portia.
Everything's all set, my visas, my
tickets . . . there's no way out — "
HIS eyes pleaded with her, mirroring
; the pain in hers. Leslie's ex-
quisite head faced to a mere shadow
between them; Portia was remember-
ing another woman who had come
between them, was remembering a
summer afternoon on a Long Island
beach two years ago. . . .
I'm partly to blame, Walter. . I knew
what Elaine was like; I should have
known she was lying. As it was, oh
Walter darling, I was so frightened, so
terrified of losing you —
He'd held her hard by the shoulders,
forcing her to meet his eyes. Let me
get this thing straight, Portia. Are you
saying that even though you believed
Elaine Arden's lies, you were still will-
ing to forgive me, to go on living with
me?
That doesn't sound as if I had much
pride, does it? But I love you so much
that without you — without you, there's
no point in living.
He'd taken her in his arms, and if
heaven is knowing one thing surely,
forever, she'd been in heaven then
with the sureness of his love.
My darling — maybe you don't realize
what kind of woman I've got as a wife.
How many women could, love their
men enough to forgive them for the
kind of thing you thought I'd done?
I was a fool not to trust you, Walter.
And I'll never be stupid like that again.
I promise.
And now, facing him with Leslie be-
tween them, she thought, "And I still do
trust him. I don't believe any of this.
It's like a masquerade. Only — is this
really Walter? He looks so tired and
beaten and old. Something terrible has
happened to him."
"I don't understand," she said aloud.
"I won't believe it until I've heard you
say it in so many words. Look at me
and tell me you're through, Walter —
really through with Parkerstown and
with me."
"I — " He couldn't finish, and she
knew that he was remembering, too . . .
remembering four years of living and
loving each other, remembering Elaine
Arden, remembering the times they had
been separated and had come together
again.
"For heaven's sake, Walter," Leslie
burst out, "what are you waiting for?
Tell her, and then she'll go. The longer
this drags on, the more embarrassing
it is for all of us. For my sake and
yours, Walter, tell her that it's over!"
He said the words, said them with
agonizing slowness, as if they were
pried out of him. "I'm leaving for An-
kara, Portia, at midnight. I don't know
when I'll be back. I'd planned to wire
you from the airport just before the
plane left."
"I see," said Portia, wondering that
you could feel your heart split open and
still go on breathing.
Leslie crossed to the door. "I'm ter-
ribly sorry you had to find it out like
this, Portia . . . but won't you go now?
This is all very distressing for all of
us — " She opened the door.
"Walter still hasn't told me that he's
through — with me," Portia said steadily.
"I'm not going until he does."
"Good heavens!" Leslie whirled upon
her. "Where's your pride? Isn't the
situation all too obvious without having
it put into words? Must you keep in-
sisting— "
Walter crossed over and shut the
door. "This is between Portia and me,
Leslie. Please stay out of it."
"Stay out of it?" Leslie cried shrilly.
"It just so happens that this concerns
me as much as it does you, and — "
"No, it doesn't," said Walter grimly.
"Not since Portia's come to New York.
If she'd stayed away, it might have been
different. But now she's here, I can't
hurt her like this. I'd rather make a
clean breast of the whole rotten mess."
"Well!" Leslie exploded. "I must
say that's a very nice compliment you
pay me, Walter!"
"Stop play-acting," he said wearily.
"You know what I mean. Come into
the sitting-room, Portia. Leslie, if you
want to stay and hear what I have to
say, you can. If not, you're perfectly
free to go into the bedroom and close
the door."
Leslie trailed them into the sitting-
room. She seated herself in a corner
of the divan — rather ostentatiously,
since Walter's coat and tie were draped
over the other end. She sat watching
them narrowly — still playing her cat-
and-mouse game, Portia thought, only
now the cat found herself with two
mice to watch. Portia looked at the
chair Walter held for her, and refused
to sit down, fearing that she would
never summon the strength to get up
again.
"Now tell me," she begged. "If you're
in love with Leslie — if you don't want
me any longer, the kindest thing is to
come right out and say it."
"\OT want you! Oh, Lord God, I—"
n His voice caught. Then he re-
covered himself and went on almost
briskly. "What I'm trying to tell you is
that you deserve a better break than
this. You're young and beautiful and
warm and — and sweet. You have a
right to the best, a right to try to find
happiness with somebody else."
Portia nodded like a child hearing a
lesson. She couldn't speak. This was
her Walter cutting her heart out, and
telling her that it was for her own good.
"I'm only thinking of you, Portia — "
He groaned and sank into a chair. "Oh,
Lord, I'm making a mess of this, too,
like everything else. All I'm trying to
say is that as men go I'm not much, but
I'm still man enough to cut you loose
from a failure — a failure in every-
thing!"
She resisted the impulse to reach out
and touch his bent head. "A failure?
You— Walter?"
"I'm fifteen thousand dollars in debt,"
he said. "That's why I have to go to
Ankara for Advance Pictures. It's the
only way I can pay the money back."
"In debt fifteen thousand — " She
stopped, realizing that she sounded
shocked, and she wasn't shocked.
Rather, she was beginning to know a
great relief. If the root of the trouble
was money, and not Leslie, not a
change in Walter's feelings toward her,
Portia . . . just money,
"Remember," he said, "the money I
loaned Bill Baker to keep Jess Ward
from getting the Herald — the money I
told you I got for the sale of 'Survival?'
Well, I lied about it. Advance Pictures
didn't buy 'Survival'."
"But you did get the money. I don't
understand — "
" 'Survival' wasn't good," he said
flatly. "When Leslie read it, she turned
it down. I lied because I was ashamed
to tell you it was bad."
"Oh, Walter — " She was crying, and
she didn't care — crying for relief, and
for the abject misery in Walter's face.
"What can I say to make you see that
those things don't matter?. No writer
can do better than his best — every time.
And for you to feel ashamed or to think
you had to lie — "
"I PROMISED you the world with a
I fence around it," he was saying.
"It's either that or nothing. A woman
like you doesn't have to settle for sec-
ond best."
Portia hardly heard him. Her tears
dried on her cheeks, and she was think-
ing. "I haven't settled for second best,"
she replied. "There's just one thing:
if Advance Pictures turned down your
story, how — where — did you get the
money to help Bill?"
"Leslie advanced it to me on my
promise that I'd rewrite 'Survival.' I
tried. God knows, I tried. But it —
well, it just didn't jell."
"And when you brought the script
to New York," Portia went on for him,
"Leslie turned it down a second time."
"Yes, she — " Walter began, but Leslie
broke in quickly, "It was so bad, I was
shocked, Portia. I couldn't believe that
the man who wrote 'Late Blossoming'
and 'Challenge' could have turned out
such inferior work: Yet in a way, I
expected it. I knew that Walter
couldn't write in Parkerstown — "
"Did you, Leslie?" Portia asked, her
voice dangerously quiet. "And was
'Survival' really so bad, or did you turn
it down to prove your point?"
"To prove—" Leslie shrilled. "Of all
the ridiculous — I won't even discuss it!
I have a very important position with
Advance Pictures, Portia Manning, and
I've kept it because I know a bad story
when I see one. And I tell you — "
"And," Portia went on relentlessly,
"when Walter asked you for that fifteen
thousand dollars, it was the opportunity
you'd waited for. You saw your chance
to force Walter to leave Parkerstown
and go to Ankara."
Leslie rose, quivering with rage and
disdain. "You're mad! I've had all
the nonsense I can take for one after-
noon— "
"Sit down." It was a tone Portia
used very occasionally while trying a
case, and it was effective. Leslie sat, al-
though she looked a little surprised at
herself for obeying. "There's a matter
of a telegram," Portia went on. "The
wire I sent Walter saying I was coming
to New York, and which the desk clerk
told me he'd given to you to give to
him."
"You wired me?" said Walter. "Les-
lie, is that true?" At his look Leslie
flinched.
"I was only trying to save you the
embarrassment of just such a scene as
this — " she began, but Portia cut in.
"And was it to save Walter embar-
rassment that you mailed the Herald
and the Chronicle in Parkerstown a pic-
ture of you two dancing at a night club?
Oh, the Herald didn't print it," she
added quickly to Walter, "but the
Chronicle did, and then Bill told me
his paper had got one, too. It set
Parkerstown on its ear."
"I'll bet it did," said Walter grimly.
"Good Lord, Leslie, were you crazy?"
She shrank back against the couch.
"Whatever I've done, Walter, has been
for your sake!" she cried desperately.
"I knew what that hideous hick town
was doing to you! You were miserable,
and it showed in your work, and — and
I was only trying to help."
"And did it help, Walter," Portia
asked, "when she told Bill Baker that
you weren't coming back to Parkers-
town because you and she had reached
an understanding?"
Walter looked blankly from Leslie to
his wife. "How does Bill Baker come
into this? When did you talk to him,
Leslie?"
"While I was still on the Mark Ran-
dall case," Portia explained, "he called
you long distance, and Leslie answered
the phone. You were at a dinner — "
"You never told me," said Walter.
He moved suddenly toward the couch,
and Leslie uttered a terrified screech
and started up. "I knew it would only
disturb you — " she cried.
But Walter had reached past her only
to pick up his coat and tie. "I've heard
enough of your excuses!" he shouted.
"What a fool I've been — what a com-
plete and stupid idiot not to see it
right from the start. Portia's right;
you've been trying to wreck our lives
from the day I left Hollywood — "
"It was for your own good!" Leslie
cried frantically. "Everything I did
was — "
"Was for the insane ego of Leslie
Palmer," Walter finished savagely. "As
far as you're concerned, I'm fed up,
through. And if I ever trust you again,
then may God help me for the fool I
am! Come on, Portia, we're getting out
of here!"
Leslie had the last word. She fol-
lowed them into the foyer, raving.
"You say you're finished! You don't
know how right you are, Walter Man-
ning! Before I'm through with you,
you won't be able to get a job anywhere.
Do you hear me? Nobody will let you
in the door! Then you will really have
to live off your wife, and see how you
like that! Just see how — "
THEY were in the corridor. The door
slammed shut behind them, cutting
off the screaming, vitriolic voice. They
walked a few steps toward the ele-
vators, and then they stopped and
looked at each other. Then, wordlessly,
Walter opened his arms, and Portia
went into them.
After a long while, he said, "My dar-
ling. My own darling, let's get out of
here. Let's go — " He stopped, looking
blank. "I haven't any place to take
you," he said. "I haven't even a place
to live—"
"No place — "
"I had a suite here, until this morning.
Then — " He flushed deeply.
Portia laughed. "Then Leslie, know-
ing I was coming, suggested that you
check out before noon and use her
rooms for the few more hours you'd be
here — which gave her a chance to keep
you practically under lock and key. Oh,
dearest, you don't have to explain — "
And he didn't; she vowed that he
would never have to explain anything
again. She had never believed for a
moment the incriminating picture of
Leslie in negligee and Walter coatless
and tieless, apparently very much at
home in her rooms, but still . . . yes, she
was glad to learn exactly how it had all
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come about.
"I've a lot to explain," he said rough-
ly. "A lot to ask forgiveness for. I'm
such a blind, stupid fool — to leave you
as I did, storming out of the house with-
out even a goodbye. And afterward, I
wanted to write, and so many times I
wanted to call, but I was too ashamed.
And there was Leslie — she had me
whipped down to nothing. If she'd been
sharp and open, I could have fought her,
but it was just a slow, steady drain of
my self-confidence. I'd lost all faith in
myself, in my ability to write, in every-
thing. I even let her convince me that
the decent thing to do was to go away
without telling you — set you free to find
someone who'd make you happier, more
secure — "
OH, Walter," she whispered, and then
she covered her eyes. "Hurry," she
said in a choked voice. "Call the desk
and see if your rooms have been turned
over to someone else. If they haven't,
tell them you're reregistering and ask
them to send the boy up with the key.
It's too much almost losing you, and
then finding you again. I've got to be
some place where I can let go a little
bit."
The suite was still vacant. And, once
they were in possession, Portia found
that she didn't need to "let go" after
all. She was much too happy. They
both were. Walter clung to her, marvel-
ing at being with her again, marveling
at her.
"Have you ever been beaten?" he
asked finally. "Why weren't you finished
this afternoon? I'd dropped out of your
life; you came to town and were told
at every turn that I'd left for Ankara —
why didn't you believe it? Where do
you get that stamina or courage or
faith, or whatever it is? No, don't laugh
— if you can tell me, maybe I can learn
to believe in myself again."
Portia closed her eyes, hating Leslie
at that moment more than she'd ever
hated her before, hated her for the fine,
thorough job she'd done of destroying
Walter's faith in himself.
"It's simple," she answered. "The old
cliche, loving not wisely but too well' is
silly. There isn't such a thing as loving
wisely, and it's impossible to love too
well. Lov<=» surpasses all thinking, all
common sense; it can work miracles."
"1 wish it could work a practical one,"
he said bitterly. "I wish it could cancel
that trip to Ankara and put me back in
Parkerstown for the rest of my life — "
"Do you mean that, Walter? About
Parkerstown? You can't — "
He nodded soberly. "Oh, but I do. I
was fed up with it when I left, but since
I've been here I've realized that the
trouble wasn't with Parkerstown but
with me. And I've changed, at least in
that respect. This Ankara trip — a
couple of years ago, no matter how
much I hated leaving you, I'd have still
felt a little tingle of anticipation, a
sense of adventure. But not now. I hate
— I resent — having to go. I just want to
go back to Parkerstown and write — if I
can still write."
"You can stiil write," said Portia. "I
know that as surely as I know that I
love you. And maybe — maybe you
can get out of that trip. Walter, exactly
what is the procedure when a manu-
script goes to a studio? Doesn't Leslie
read it and submit a synopsis of it to her
superiors?"
He nodded. "But they all read it and
turned it down — "
"You mean they turned down her
synopsis," said Portia excitedly. Walter,
I'd stake my life that that's what hap-
pened! Perhaps 'Survival' isn't as good
as 'Challenge' — but I'm sure it's better
than 'Late Blossoming', and that was a
hit. Aren't you free to offer it to another
studio? And if we could postpone your
plane reservation a day or two, and get
a rival studio — say like Soundstage — to
read 'Survival' in a hurry . . . and if
they bought it, and I'm sure they'll buy
it, you could pay your debt and you
wouldn't have to go to Ankara — "
She stopped, breathless. Walter was
laughing at her. But his eyes were
alight; he was catching fire from her
enthusiasm.
"You dreamer!" he laughed. "You
wonderful, impossible dreamer! We'll
try it, and there's a crazy, far-off chance
it might work — "
It had to work, Portia thought. Not
thought — prayed. And she knew that
it would work. They would sell "Sur-
vival," pay Walter's debt; they would
have each other again, and Walter
would have back his faith in himself.
They would do it somehow — because
they were together. Together, they
could do anything.
RADIO MIRROR QUIZ
1. You know him as Frank Morgan. What is his real name?
2. Jack Smart, "the fat man", weighs (a) 175, (b) 235, (c) 270.
3. What two famous comedians originally planned to be doctors?
4. What famous crooner was taught to sing by his mother?
5. Singers Dennis and Doris Day are brother and sister. (True or
false.)
6. Madonna Josephine Davis is Joan Davis' real name. (True or
false.)
7. Is deep water easier to swim in than shallow water?
8. Did any president ever win all the states in an election?
ANSWERS
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EB and the Boys
(Continued from page 59)
"Charlie's view of Sweden" via 16mm.
camera. Then he began to think that
black and white wouldn't do justice to
Sweden's beauties, so he took on Tech-
nicolor. Technicolor seemed sort of
wasted on 16 mm., so he decided on
35 mm., the film used commercially in
motion picture theaters.
The picture was originally planned
solely for entertainment, and that's
still its first function. But, the way
Charlie handled things, there couldn't
be a more natural "good relations" me-
dium. Maybe he should be an ambassa-
dor. After all, he learned Swedish be-
fore we left and he certainly never
missed a wink at the cute Svenska
Flickas we met in our travels.
Edgar and he can hardly wait now
to take on Mexico (you should hear
Charlie's Spanish!), Hawaii, and Alas-
ka. Even Mars wouldn't surprise me,
in their present state of enthusiasm.
Besides the movie Edgar took, which
begins in New York and includes such
events as the King of Sweden's 90th
Birthday Parade in Stockholm, EB
and the boys entertained wherever we
went. We traveled from Gothenburg to
Stockholm by station wagon, stopping
each night in a different town, with
Edgar and Charlie doing their stuff
in Swedish for the local kids. It was
such fun watching, because so many of
them thought Charlie was real. Edgar
played the Rivoli in Stockholm, to ten
thousand people the first night, then
twelve thousand, then fourteen thou-
sand. But Charlie got all the raves.
Our itinerary included London, with
two sell-out weeks at the Palladium. I
edged into that engagement with our
three-way skit, "The Operation." We
went into Germany, played Frankfurt,
Mannheim, Weisbaden, Heidelberg and
Berlin — were the first entertainers to
fly the Russian Corridor after "Opera-
tion Vittles" started. Our soldiers there
are still great audiences, and we came
at a tense time when they were on alert
status and entertainment was particu-
larly welcome. They loved Edgar and
the boys — and I might add that my
tight-fitting white satin nurse's uniform
made a hit too.
We were grateful we could go in,
and I wish every American could see
those ruins and take back the unfor-
gettable picture of what total war can
do. Paris, by contrast, was sheer beauty,
with thrilling avenues, great statues
and fountains, and an air of gaiety and
fun.
Travel with EB and the boys is al-
ways exciting, even on shorter trips.
In this case, perhaps "hysterical" is the
word. The boys travel in padded cases,
and by the time those two, plus the
forty-eight pieces of luggage, cameras
and other motion picture equipment we
had to take, were put on boat or train
or plane there was hardly any room
for us.
We safeguard the boys by never let-
ting them out of sight of someone
trustworthy. A press agent once had
Charlie "kidnapped" and restored to
the paternal knee in the nick of time
for resumption of his fall schedule.
When Charlie was really lost some
time later, no newspaper would give
a line to the story. He wasn't stolen —
they merely forgot to take him off the
plane when it landed at Burbank. He
turned up, mad as Donald Duck, when
the plane came down in San Francisco,
but it was a bad scare for EB and the
sponsor and the insurance company that
has set a price of ten thousand dollars
on Charlie's little wooden head (the
same head he started with many years
ago, grown older but, alas, no wiser).
Our little Candy stayed home in
Beverly Hills this time, but she takes
all the excitement in stride when she
travels with us. Whether she begins to
notice that people recognize Edgar, we
can't say. Probably she is still too
young. She loves the attention, makes
friends quickly, and manages to get her
share of the spotlight. We may have
difficulty later in keeping her unspoiled,
but with good schooling and sensible
discipline we hope to give her a com-
pletely normal little girl's life.
Strangely enough, I've noticed on
our trips that most people don't recog-
nize Edgar by his voice, at least not at
first. They look at him — even with a
hat on! — and seem to know him at
once.
Photography is only one of EB's in-
terests, although one of his major ones.
He collects cameras — and I do mean
collects. You never saw such an array!
But it's a case of pot calling kettle
black — I've caught his collector's itch,
only in my case it's matches. And a
lovely fan I brought back from France
has set me to collecting those too.
He has never been lazy, and he can't
relax even now unless he's doing some-
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thing. When he says he is going to
rest a while you'll usually find him re-
treating from the world in some tome
on science, aviation, magic or the
theater. He reads biographies, but prac-
tically no fiction. His idea of pleasing
music is "Meke Believe." "Sweet Mys-
tery of Life," "Moonbeams," and
similar melodious musical comedy
numbers.
He swims and rides, putters with en-
gines and lathes and saws in his work-
shop, has flown his own plane for about
nine years. He's crazy about old auto-
mobiles— has a 1905 White Steamer and
a Stanley Steamer. He's a pretty good
painter — does still life, portraits, most
anything. And he's a bee-keeper. We
have them right back of the swimming
pool.
WE live in a ten-room Mediterranean-
style house, high on a hilltop, next to
the old John Barrymore estate. The
house is white stucco, with terra cotta
shutters and tile roof.
We have a big living room, predomi-
nantly green in color scheme.
Candy's room has pale pink walls,
with furniture sprayed to match. Charlie
still has his own room, somewhat "re-
converted" since Candy came along and
usurped some of the space for her toys
and other possessions. There's a cedar
closet where Charlie hangs his hat —
and all the sartorial splendors of his
extensive wardrobe, including his Hon-
orary Marine Corps Sergeant's uniform
and his West Point Cadet regalia. Poor
Mort needs no wardrobe for his two
homespun suits!
The playroom is Early American, with
simple furniture and lots of copper
and brass. It has a stage, where Edgar
has been experimenting with new ideas
and routines, which he tests for audi-
ence reaction. He and Charlie are talk-
ing television and they're ready to do
their stuff on video any day. .That dear
old girl, Effie Klinker, who worked
with Edgar and the boys a while on
his Sunday night NBC broadcasts,
misses her glamorous past and wants
to be in on the television highjinks. Ed-
gar feels she has only to be seen to be
appreciated.
We have 16 and 35 mm. projectors in
the playroom and Edgar likes to show
pictures. His own movie favorites are
Ingrid Bergman, Irene Dunne, Margaret
Sullavan, Ronald Colman and Spencer
Tracy. With so much talent to draw
from among our friends, we have some
wonderful extemporaneous entertain-
ment at our parties — and of course the
irrepressible Charlie always has his
say. Most of our parties are small — a
big one is usually for some special
event.
Besides our "collections," Edgar and
I can't resist fine glassware and paint-
ings. Last February we got some divine
Bohemian wine glasses in New Orleans
and now we have some handsome
Swedish glass from Stockholm. We
brought Meissen ware from Germany
and some lovely antique jewelry from
Paris. And one of our greatest treasures
is a Pierre Bonnard painting of "Mont-
martre" which we got in Paris this
summer.
We have flower and vegetable gar-
dens, a rose garden, and an unusual
cactus garden next to the pool. Our
house is built picturesquely around a
patio, where we grow the biggest and
most colorful geraniums I've ever seen.
An outdoor barbecue at the Bergens'
is apt to bring out lots of good old
friends: Dinah Shore and George
Montgomery, Georgia Carroll and Kay
Kyser, the George Murphys, the Fred
MacMurrays, the Freeman Gosdens,
among others. EB likes to be barbecue
chef, but his own food favorites are
seafood, cheeses and fruit.
Edgar's main interest, of course, is
The Show. That comes before every-
thing else. Writing days are Monday,
Tuesday and Friday. Saturday is re-
hearsal, and again on Sunday, before
showtime. Usually everything is pretty
well lined up a few hours before he
goes on the air, but sometimes there
are last-minute changes. EB is ex-
tremely conscientious — therefore a per-
fectionist— therefore a worrier!
Occasionally I go to a rehearsal. They
are tense affairs at times, especially
when the inevitable temperament is
present, but they're mostly hard-work
sessions — reading lines, cutting, edit-
ing, typing the script together, work-
ing it out to the last smartcrack.
EB's ventriloquism, which is properly
called "voice mimicry," provides some
informal fun for us. For instance, we
have one of those fanciful carved birds
in a wooden cage, and Edgar confounds
the dogs and our visitors by making
the bird talk, sometimes in English
and sometimes quite unexpectedly in
Swedish.
It was when he was twelve that
Edgar discovered he could throw his
voice successfully. The family was
having dinner when he tried his skill.
His mother went to the door, was mys-
tified to find no one there, and he knew
then that he could really "deceive"
people. It's true that he had bought a
"wizard's manual" of ventriloquism and
magic, but he soon learned that much
depended upon his own practice. His
new-found talent and his stock of
magic tricks helped pay school and
college expenses from that time on,
and got him the vaudeville and night-
club bookings that decided his career.
Even after years of performances, it
took Edgar a long time to realize how
popular he and Charlie were. They had
been on the radio for several months,
on the Rudy Vallee program. They
had won praise and awards for the
novelty and originality of the act. Then
Edgar was booked into the Wedgewood
Room at the Waldorf, in New York.
Before the deal was closed, Edgar told
Ken Murray about it. Ken told him he
was crazy to take the $400 offered.
"Why, all those little dancers get at
least $750, and you're worth more than
they are. If you don't demand $750,
and hold out for it," Ken threatened
him, "you can stay away from me. I
can't bother with small-timers," he
taunted, trying to make Edgar realize
his own importance.
IT worked. EB went right back to his
telephone and called his agent.
"I want $750," he told him. "And
don't come back at me, either, with a
$700 offer. It's $750." And he got it.
When I married Edgar I had been a
model and a singer, and some of us
girls in Hollywood used to get together
and jest about the "big careers" we
had given up for love. Then, a few
years ago, I decided I wanted to do
something on my own again. I opened
a little dress shop in Beverly Hills and
Edgar was enthusiastic about it, en-
couraging me every step of the way.
But suddenly I realized it was begin-
ning to run away with me, and with
the time I should be giving to my home
and family. So I gave up the shop.
Being Mrs. Edgar Bergen, mother to
Candice Patricia, and stepmama to the
boys — and Effie — had become a full-
time job. My job — the very best one
in the world for me.
Traveler of the Month
(Continued jrom page 47)
medleys of request numbers.
Somewhere along the line, Bernard
began forgetting about his own sick-
ness as he thought about the other
patients and tried to plan programs
which would appeal to all tastes and
backgrounds. Several good friends in
St. Louis took to driving him around
town to ball games and operas on his
"days off." His mother came to the
ward every Wednesday with home-
made cookies — enough for all of the
boys. Bernard was moving along.
Still, however, he suffered from the
uncertainty, the lack of self-confidence
that marks most persons who have been
sick for a long time. One night, there
was to be a big show at the hospital
auditorium, with Connee Boswell as the
star. The program called for Bernard
to go out on the stage and get the show
rolling.
"I was worried sick," he recalled. "It
was one thing to sit before a house
microphone, all by myself, and talk. It
was something else again to go out in
front of that whole audience in my
wheel chair. I just couldn't do it.
"Then Connee Boswell, waiting to go
on, realized what was wrong. She
talked to me, and reminded me that
she, too, was a victim of polio. She
calmed me down, and said there was
nothing to be afraid of. Then, she made
me wheel onstage with her — and I was
all right after that."
I think that Connee Boswell did a
wonderful thing that night for an un-
known young man named Bernard
Estrin. Everyone in our Welcome Trav-
elers audience joined me in feeling
pride in such a grand trouper as Connee.
A little later, Bernard acted what we
call a "side character" into his disc
jockey routine. It was Jose, a Mexican
with a sad voice and a love for the
rhumba, played by our Bernard Estrin.
One day, a WAC who also was a pa-
tient came to see Bernard and de-
manded an introduction to Jose.
Bernard introduced himself as Jose,
and was flattered by the WAC's dis-
belief. If Jose was so real, then per-
haps he wasn't such a complete ama-
teur. Maybe he had a touch of talent
for this radio business.
That was a thought — but what a dar-
ing thought! It was something to think
about during the long hours in bed. A
hope for a new career. After all, disc
jockeys didn't have to use their feet.
What difference would it make if a disc
jockey were in a wheel chair?
Things move at a slow pace in a
hospital. After months of such thoughts,
Bernard brought himself to approach
some St. Louis radio personalities. They
gave him a voice test and were en-
couraging. He should keep at it, they
said. His voice was good, his mike
technique showed promise.
For the first time now, the young
man had a dream. Sure, the pain still
came. Sure, the monotony was as bleak
as ever. Sure, his old cocksure world
was gone forever. But perhaps, out of
the years of suffering, a new world was
shaping.
That was Bernard's frame of mind
when, with a leave from the hospital,
he visited his old home town, Chicago.
I was nattered that he took time out
from his busy round of seeing old
friends and dining with relatives to
visit with us at the College Inn of the
Hotel Sherman.
During the first moment of our inter-
view, I was impressed by his dignity
and sincerity. As he began telling of
his work as the hospital disc jockey and
admitted, under my questioning, that
he hoped to go into radio, it struck me
that our very conversation was Bernard
Estrin's big-time radio debut.
Of course, I'm using that word "de-
but" loosely. Bernard isn't yet a pro-
fessional, and he wasn't appearing on
our program as a professional. He was
just another guest, just one of the thou-
sands of ordinary persons who have
stopped to chat with us. But as this
young man's dramatic story unfolded
all of us, I'm sure, were hoping that
some day Bernard would have a radio
show of his own.
When Bernard is released from the
hospital, I'm going to introduce him to
lots and lots of radio people, and be as
helpful as I can. It would be a real
privilege to be of assistance to a fine
young man like him. I think of that
whenever I recall one particular state-
ment of his. It went this way:
"If I should ever make good in radio,
I'll never forget the shut-ins, the sick
people to whom' the radio is the whole
outside world. I've been a shut-in so
long myself that I'll do everything pos-
sible to make their lives happier and
fuller."
I hope Bernard gets that chance.
Don't you?
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97
lOKMAM
Step up and ask your questions — we'll try to find the answers
FOR YOUR INFORMATION— if there's
something you want to know about
radio, write to Information Booth,
Radio Mirror, 205 E. 42nd St., New York.
We'll answer if we can either in Infor-
mation Booth or by mail— but be sure
to sign full name and address, and at-
tach this box to your letter.
IS THIS BETTER?
Dear Editor:
In my opinion,
Kay Armen of Stop
The Music is the
best singer I've ever
heard. That picture
in a recent issue of
Radio Mirror didn't
do her justice — it
was terrible. Haven't
you got a better
one?
Miss M. S.
Akron, Ohio
Kay Arnien
Well, we have another one.
AFFILIATES
Dear Editor:
Would you please tell m.. the number of
affiliates each network has?
Mr. J. K.
Ponca City, Okla.
According to the latest listings, the Mu-
tual Broadcasting System has the most
affiliates, with 515 which includes those
operating in Hawaii and Alaska. The Amer-
ican Broadcasting Company is next with
approximately 245. Columbia Broadcasting
System has 178, and the National Broadcast-
ing Company has 170.
ROGER OF DR. MALONE
Dear Editor:
Can you tell me
who plays Roger
Dineen in Young Dr.
Malone? I think he
is one of the finest
actors on the air.
Also, what ever
happened to Marion
Mann, formerly of
the Breakfast Club.
She had a lovely
voice, and I miss her.
Mrs. M. S. G.
Madison, Conn.
Barry Thompson
98
The actor who plays Roger Dineen is
Barry Thompson, graduate of the London
Academy of Arts. Marion Mann is no
longer active in radio. She left the Break
fast Club in 1946 to devote more time to
her husband and family.
OFF THE AIR
Dear Editor:
I have lost track ol one ol my lavorite
programs, Rose of My Dreams. It was my
favorite serial. Will you please tell me
what station this program comes on now?
Miss V. L.
Nathalie, Va.
This serial went
off the air several
months ago and at
present there seems
to be very little like-
lihood that it will
return. But for old
time's sake, here's
a picture of pretty
Mary Rolfe who
played the title role.
Incidentally, she's
also Henry's sister. Mary Kolfe
Mary, in The Aldrich Family, heard Thurs-
days at 8:00 P.M. EST, over NBC.
BLAINE'S HIS NAME
Dear Editor:
Will you please
tell me the name of
the actor who played
Ned Brandon, on
Katie's Daughter,
now off the air? I
believe I recognized
his voice in The
FBI in Peace and
War. If so, who does
he portray on this
program?
Mrs. P. M.
Hollis,N. Y.
.Martin Blaine
Before Katie's Daughter left the air,
Martin Blaine played the role of Ned Bran-
don. And, as you've guessed, he does play
a part in The FBI in Peace and War —
field agent. Mr. Sheppard.
SHE ISN'T NANCY
Dear Editor:
I would like to
know if the actress
who plays Sunday
in Our Gal Sunday
is the same actress
who plays Laurel in
Stella Dallas and
Nancy Donovan in
Just Plain Bill.
Miss G. C.
Oleme, California
Vivian Smolen
Vivian Smolen,
the actress you have in mind, does play
the role of Sunday and Laurel, but she
doesn't play Nancy in Just Plain Bill. That
part is played by Ruth Russell whose voice
sounds very much like Vivian's.
WE'D LIKE TO KNOW, TOO
Dear Editor:
I've heard Jimmy Durante for a long
time; not only when he teamed up with
Garry Moore but way before that. While
he was with Garry, he started something
that puzzled me greatly more and more as
time went on with no explanation in sight.
Every week he closes his program with these
words, "Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash." My
question is, who is this Mrs. Calabash?
Miss P. S.
Greenwich, Conn.
We certainly wish
we knew,' as it's
got our curiosity
aroused, too. We're
convinced that there
are probably only
two people who
know who "Mrs.
Calabash" is — Jim-
my, and — er, Mrs.
Calabash, herself.
Jimmy Durante
CATHY CAMERON
Rosemary Rice
Yes^ she does;
name.
Dear Editor:
Please tell me if
the actress who
plays Cathy Cam-
eron in When a Girl
Marries is the same
one who plays Betty
in Adventures of
Archie Andrews.
Mr. J. S.
Madill, Okla.
Rosemary Rice is her
Frank Lovejoy
A TRIPLE YES
Dear Editor:
Would you please
give me some infor-
mation about my fa-
vorite radio actor,
Frank Lovejoy?
Does he play Chris
topher Barnes in
Today's Children?
Is he married — and.
if so, to whom? And.
wasn't he in a movie
called "Black Bart"?
Miss L. M. P.
Jacksonville, Fla.
Yes is the answer to all three questions.
Frank does play Christopher Barnes, and,
what's more, his wife, Joan Banks, plays
the part of Carlotta Lagorro in the same
serial, which incidentally, started its 14th
year on the air this year. In "Black Bart,"
Frank played the part of Lorimer.
BLOCK AND WHITEMAN
Dear Editor:
What happened to
the two programs,
Martin Block at 1 :30
CST, and The Paul
Whiteman Show at
2:30 CST?
Mr. B. P.
Lubbock, Texas
Martin Block
Martin Block is still on the air, but is
no longer on Mutual. He is announcer
on NBC's Chesterfield Supper Club, and
disc-jockey on Make Believe Ballroom on
WNEW. As for Paul Whiteman he doesn't
have a regular show, but is busy with ABC-
Television.
•V^ la8l< JU8t °i,e Ration ple»*e<J
What do YU U want most
when you travel?
"Just about every one I've talked with has a different
answer to that question!
"If your reply is like any of the ones below, there's a
way in which you can save quite a lot of money, and
have a better time— on almost any out-of-town trip. And,
if you have some other pet preference, when traveling,
my guess is that Greyhound will come nearest meeting
it, too— in SuperCoaches built for travel satisfaction!
"The best way is to phone, or call on your Greyhound
agent, next time you plan a trip anywhere in America."
Who, me? 1 want
convenience— lots
of schedules ... ."
"Then Greyhound's
for you! There are
many departures
daily, timed at most
convenient hours-
prompt arrivals, too.
n I like to see things,
meet people, have
a good time . . .
It's truly more fun
traveling Greyhound
— you meet such congen-
ial people, see Amer-
ica's beauty spots
close-up, by highway.
"Everything's so
high — I want to
save money!"
Lady, you'll save mon-
ey on every Greyhound
trip! Fares are lower
than any other trans-
portation — less than
driving your own car.
'I'm a salesman —
gotta make all the
little towns!"
Well sir, Greyhound's
going your way .'Serves
■ all the big cities — and
stops at thousands of
small towns and com-
munities in between.
"I want to get home
from school on
week-ends."
Then go Greyhound.
Serves hundreds of
schools and colleges—
in many cases stops
right at campus gates.
"I'm 'way past 50
— give me com-
fort, relaxation."
There's real riding
ease in deeply-cush-
ioned chairs that re-
cline to any desired
angle. Drivers are
careful and courteous.
G R E YHOUND
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